Gundam Seed Destiny Fan Fiction / Gundam SEED Fan Fiction ❯ Play of the Fates ❯ V: The One With The Bad Habit ( Chapter 5 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: PaolaAdara 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Seed Destiny Fan Fiction / Gundam SEED Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.08.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.3K | Visits: 392 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Gundam Seed Destiny Fan Fiction / Gundam SEED Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.08.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.3K | Visits: 392 | Status: Work In Progress
Title: Play of the Fates (5 of ?)
Author: Paola
Disclaimer: Play of the Fates is based on characters and situations that belong to Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asashi (and other production affiliates that have the right of ownership). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Considerations: Similarities to other stories/events/passages are purely coincidental unless otherwise cited, and beliefs and points of view found in the story do not necessarily reflect those of the author’s.
The idea to make the chapter titles begin with “The One…” is from the TV show, F.R.I.E.N.D.S
This may, in all possible intent, be differently written compared to any of the author’s previous literary ventures.
Rating: Rated M for language and adult situations. You have been warned.
Play of the Fates
Chapter Five
“Good morning, Athrun,” Lacus greeted as she pecked him on the cheek.
“Morning, man,” was Kira’s welcoming words. He pulled a chair backwards for Lacus to sit on then pulled a chair for himself.
“You’re late,” Athrun replied, re-conquering the seat he had vacated to greet his two closest friends.
The three were seated at a little nook in the breakfast inn they usually went to when they ate breakfast together, which, nowadays, rarely happened. He was almost always at PLANT, working his ass off, and his visits to Earth were few and far in between. But he didn’t have much ground to complain on since – although there were times when he was so into his job – he really didn’t care for it. Sure, he worked hard to attain what he had now, but it wasn’t a job he’d kill to remain in. It just so happened that this kind of work presented itself and he had nothing against taking it. At least, nothing much against it that could jeopardize his whole career.
Lacus giggled good-naturedly. “We’re sorry, Athrun. We got a flat tire on our way.”
Kira fleetingly eyed him before settling his eyes on Lacus, shrugging insouciantly. “You’re too kind, Lacus. He doesn’t mind waiting, you know.”
Athurn resisted the urge to roll his yes, basically because he wasn’t one to do so. “You’re too kind, Kira.”
Kira chuckled and hailed a passing waiter, who promptly handed them three menus. “Haven’t seen you in weeks. And to think we’re in the same city,” Kira off-handedly said, not bothering to look up from his bill of fare.
Lacus, however, stopped perusing the food choices and fixed Athrun an inquiring stare. “Yes, that’s right. After our little dinner at Tavern City, it’s like you’re back at the PLANTs.”
Athrun shrugged, picking up his own list. “You know how my other business visits to earth seemed like vacations? This time, I’m really working my hide off. I’ve got another meeting later at lunch.”
“But it’s a Saturday,” Kira deadpanned, like that should explain everything.
“Yes, and some of us have to work on weekends.”
Kira chuckled again. “So the boss ain’t the boss of himself.”
Lacus shook his head at her significant other. “Looks like you’re booked all throughout your stay.” She paused to inform the waiter of her order, then waited for a short while until both boys she was with were done with theirs. “How long are you staying anyway?”
“I don’t know for sure. Just for a month, initially. But I might be extending my visit.”
“For a girl?”
“What are you, thirteen? Grow up, Kira,” Athrun hurriedly pitched in, glad that he finally had Kira where he could be laughed at.
Kira appeared like he couldn’t decide if he’d let that slip, but then he grinned. “Nice one.”
Lacus was laughing as well. “You’re awfully busy, but I hope you can come to my show this coming Friday.”
Athrun almost wondered out loud about what his ex-fiancée was talking about before he remembered that Lacus was a singer-turned-fashion designer, and that she was most probably talking about a fashion show she would be holding. He mentally went over his schedule for the week, and found that if he squeezed a few of his appointments at an earlier time – for he was sure that the show would be at night – and if he moved his other calls to next week, he could make it.
“Pretty please, Athrun?”
Lacus was really very good at making him agree to whatever she was suggesting, and there were a very few times that he came out the victor and told her no. Unfortunately, today wouldn’t be one of those days. He looked at Kira for help since he knew his best friend would understand that his weekdays were tight, but the brunette simply sipped his coffee.
“That’s a lot of help there, Kira.” Kira just grinned. Athrun turned to Lacus and gave her his affirmative answer.
“That’s great! I have been working on this new line of evening wear for a whole five months!” Lacus fished something from her purse, then handed Athrun a black credit card with pink lining and gold letterings, though it seemed a little bigger than the ordinary plastic card.
“You’re giving me a credit card?”
“Why would she give you a credit card when you’ve got tons of them already?” Kira sarcastically asked, earning an ineffective glare from Athrun. “It’s the invite, Athrun Zala. Look before you ask.”
“You two little kids at our breakfast inn. Never changes,” Lacus observed from the rim of her juice glass just before she drank her fill.
Athrun ran his eyes over what was written in front, which basically was Lacus’ logo and brand name, Eternal. He then flipped the card and read the minute details engraved on it, which contained the date, time, and place of the show. Nothing much to give the show away, which he remembered was the way Lacus preferred her invites to be. Then at the bottom right corner were three little words that made him look at them appreciatively: Two seats reserved.
“I forgot to ask, how are the wedding plans?” Athrun asked after securing the invitation in his wallet.
Kira had popped the question roughly a year ago, but neither had really been in a hurry to get the wedding done as both still had their careers prioritized. It was only very recently that the couple started talking about planning the wedding.
“We haven’t agreed on a date yet, but we’re eyeing a place already. And Lacus has been designing endless numbers of gowns to choose from,” Kira replied, smiling fondly at Lacus upon finishing his sentence.
“I have not!” Lacus quickly defended herself, though a grin was threatening to steal over her features.
“Of course. Just around seven, I guess.”
Athrun laughed. “I guess wedding plans are ruffling your feathers, huh, Lacus?”
Lacus smiled, a little self-consciously this time. “Yes, a bit, but I’m really excited about it, too!”
The chatty and intimate atmosphere reigning upon the three of them was broken by a constant beeping that sounded a little too obnoxious as it disturbed one of their very few get-togethers. Instantly fishing the offending mobile phone from his pocket, Athrun excused himself to take the call.
Lacus followed Athrun’s direction towards an empty niche to answer his phone. “Don’t you think he’s working just a tiny bit too hard?”
Kira covered Lacus’ hand with his own. “It’s just something he has to do. This is something we can’t really interfere in even if we’re the best of friends.”
“I just wish there’s something we can do.”
Kira smiled understandingly at his fiancée, running his thumb over the diamond of her engagement ring that was sitting comfortably on her finger. “He’ll ask for help if he needs it. You know him.”
At that, Lacus grinned. “Yes, he’s just like you.” Her grin grew wider. “Stubborn and is horrible at hiding how childish he’s acting!”
“Hey!”
Before any of them could add to that, Athrun strode over, pocketing his mobile phone and looking at little distracted.
“Anything wrong, Athrun?” Lacus asked.
“There’s been a little accident at the plant. One of the workers may have been hurt,” he replied, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a few bills. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave.”
“It’s okay, man,” Kira piped in.
Athrun nodded at him then placed the money on the table. “Breakfast’s on me.” Then he turned and left.
o-o
The shops that lined the West Side of Orb’s shopping district weren’t very crowded, as opposed to the East Side where the towering malls littered the corners. Although the West Side shops usually catered to those who had more dollar votes, Cagalli kind of liked it there. The streets and boutiques weren’t much congested, and the area was generally less noisy. Though, sometimes, she hated the place because of the one or two snooty snobs she would occasionally bump into.
“Why do we always shop here? Or, better yet, why do you always shop here?” she asked Damien, who was carrying two designer-labeled shopping bags in each arm; she, on the other hand, had both her hands free because there really was nothing she needed to buy. And shopping for no reason wasn’t a practical idea she fondly clung to.
If a casual observer were to look at them, he’d probably think they were a couple and that Damien was being gentlemanly by carrying Cagalli’s shopping bags. That was what she liked a lot about him – he wasn’t very obviously gay. His voice wasn’t octaves out of place, and it was a good thing because Miriallia, when excited, was enough of a high-pitched talker for the both of them. If it weren’t for his insanely refined and impeccable taste in wardrobe, he’d be like any other man out there. Once, she’d even asked him to be her date for one of Orb Aesthete’s benefits, and he had graciously humored her because her break-up with her boyfriend then wasn’t one of her memories worth re-living. She’d forever love Damien for that.
“Because, luv, everything here glitters and sparkles!” Damien chirped, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Cagalli rolled her eyes. “That’s so gay, Damien!” Of course, if Damien were in the comfort of his close friends, he acted more flippantly than his female counterparts.
Damien mock glared at Cagalli through his dark-tinted sunglasses. “Well, what did you expect?” He pulled her along as they crossed the street to take a look at the shops on the other side. “Aren’t you buying anything? C’mon, luv, spend! You’re working for it!” he exclaimed, ooh-ing at a leather-strapped watch displayed on a JeanRichard store window before dragging Cagalli inside the establishment.
“That’s why I don’t spend as much as you! I have to work for it! You, on the other hand – you spoiled rotten bastard – inherited your money. You don’t even have to keep the job you have now!”
“Oh, hush! And whose fault is it anyway? You’re too proud for your own good, luv,” he responded, clearly referring to Cagalli’s relationship with her father.
As the saleswoman greeted them, Damien transferred the bags he was carrying in his left hand to his right hand then he clasped Cagalli’s right and entwined their fingers. The saleswoman glanced down at their joined hands, then returned to smiling at them, asking them if she could be of help.
Damien kissed Cagalli on the temple, and she knew instantly what he was trying to do. They always played around like this because, for one, both of them knew how good Damien looked, and, two, because they had agreed that they made a good-looking couple, if Damien were only straight.
Cagalli grinned.
“Oh yes. Her birthday’s coming up, and I thought I’d buy her one of your Lady designs.”
Cagalli inwardly arched an eyebrow, mainly because her birthday had ended a long time ago. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was saying the truth, but he’d probably just come out and say he needed to look around for a better birthday present and leave the saleswoman with her hopes of selling their product crushed. They did it often enough in the past that she had to pause and worry about some kind of karma coming and knocking on her door. Of course, it would be then that Damien would chide her for thinking about stupid stuff.
The woman, who, Cagalli thought, was really only smiling at Damien, led them to a glass counter displaying their JeanRichard TV Screen Lady watches. Cagalli almost laughed at the woman’s obvious flirtations, asking Damien senseless questions, touching his arm, laughing at his small jokes.
If only she knew…
Damien seemed to notice, too, as he wrapped an arm around Cagalli’s waist and dipped his head to feign an intimate whisper between lovers. Cagalli grinned widely when she spied the small scowl on the woman’s face.
“How about this one?” Damien murmured in her ear, quiet enough to tickle the sensitive skin, but loud enough to be heard by the woman.
Cagalli could swear the woman glared at her when Damien brushed his lips on her ear. “Oh, that’s a fine one, Damien!” she replied, adding a giggle to annoy the saleslady.
“Yes, it is,” the woman answered, a little hesitant to hand the watch to Cagalli when Damien asked her to retrieve it from the glass.
Damien took it off its case and proceeded to buckle it around Cagalli’s wrist, surprising her. Usually, their jokes didn’t lead to any of them trying on stuff. After salesladies showed them their wares, they would verbally dismiss the idea of buying and walk out of the shop faster than anyone could say Genesis.
“How do you like it?” Damien asked, running a finger down the smooth red leather strap before lifting Cagalli’s hand as if to inspect the watch at a better angle and lighting.
Cagalli stared at him instead of the watch, not quite comprehending what he was trying to do. Surely, he wasn’t thinking of buying her the watch. That was just absurd. First, she had a perfectly functional watch to begin with – along with other watches she owned – and second, there was no occasion that called for it.
She must have sounded a weird reply for Damien shook his head at her then proceeded to make business with the woman. Then the next thing she knew, he was flashing one of his plastics and signing a receipt. She didn’t even get to remove the watch before Damien guided her out the door and into the streets bathed by the afternoon sun.
“Uh…what just happened?” Cagalli asked, still a little dazed as she un-strapped her wrist of the watch since it looked ridiculous to be wearing two watches for no apparent reason. Though, now that she thought about it, it would still look ridiculous even if she had a plausible reason.
“What do you mean?” Damien casually asked as they sauntered down the avenue’s side-walk.
Cagalli dangled the Swiss ticker in front of his face when she had fallen into step beside him. “Is this really for me?”
“I don’t think it would suit me.”
“Occasion?”
“Nothing.”
Cagalli paused, retrieving the small paper bag from Damien’s hand to place the half-hunter back in its box. Then she rounded on him as a thought hit her, “Oh my god! You did something unforgivable, didn’t you? That’s why you bought me this!”
“I like how you’re so trusting and unsuspicious. Gives me a tingly feeling inside.”
The sarcasm was laid on too thick that Cagalli had to grin. “Oh come on! There’s gotta be a reason!” She paused to affect a thinking stance then glanced slyly at her friend. “Don’t tell me you’re not gay.”
“You know what, if that were true, then half of the female populace would rejoice and flock on my doorstep.”
Cagalli laughed then sobered as he had yet to answer her question. “But seriously. What’s it for, Damien?”
“I owe you two years’ worth of birthday presents.”
“What?” Cagalli asked, confused.
“Remember when I was in Europe for two straight years and never contacted you and Miriallia? I missed out on everything, and now that I’ve bought you a gift, I’ve only got Miriallia to think about.” Damien grinned at her. “I remember how you gushed about this watch when we were looking at a catalogue they sent me.”
Cagalli shook her head disbelievingly. “You buy someone lunch to make up for missed birthdays, not a watch!”
Damien rolled his cerulean eyes. “Poor people buy others lunch. I buy ‘em watches.”
“I can’t accept this, Damien. This is too much,” she argued, hefting the bag towards her friend.
“It costs more than what I usually give you. Big deal, luv. Keep it! I also missed two Christmases, didn’t I? Think of it as four gifts in one!” he exclaimed, slightly exasperated at Cagalli’s obstinacy.
Before Cagalli could reply, a mobile phone rang, and she wondered briefly if it was Damien’s, then realized that the distinctive tone was coming from her pocket. “Yes?” she answered, casting Damien a withering glance before turning her attention to the person on the other end. “Oh my god, honey! Are you all right?”
Damien immediately looked concerned at the sudden alarmed pitch in Cagalli’s voice.
“Yeah, yeah. We’re on our way.” She clicked off her phone then addressed Damien’s anticipative expression. “It’s Mir. They had a car accident, and she and her mother are in the hospital right now.”
Damien’s hand flew to his heart. “The poor darlings!”
“Mir’s all right, just a few scratches, but her mom took the brunt of the blow according to her. Damien, we better hurry! She must be feeling alone and scared right now!”
“My car’s parked all the way on the other side. Let’s take a cab!” As if on cue, a cab rounded a curb and Damien immediately hailed it. “The Kusanagi Hospital, please,” he instructed the cab driver as he and Cagalli scampered to enter the car.
Cagalli shifted and leant towards the unsuspecting driver. “And hurry!”
o-o
Cagalli rubbed her tired eyes as she inserted some coins in the vending machine, intent to get a cup of hot coffee to invigorate her dulled nerves. The clock in the waiting room told her it was past ten, and Miriallia’s mom was still in surgery.
Miriallia was all cried out now, and Damien was with her outside the operating room, which she wished would switch the red light off to signal that the operation was done. She’d had to cart herself off from the stiff seats outside the operating room or she’d be in danger of falling asleep in an awkward position and probably wake up with an equally stiff neck.
She sluggishly took a tentative sip of the murky liquid, thankful that it was still hot, but grimacing at the same time as the strong brew burnt a trail down her throat. Her energy had been drained; she’d been up since five in the morning when Damien barreled inside her apartment and forced her to jog with him. Then when they had returned to her apartment and showered, she’d barely finished her breakfast when he pulled her to his car and they sped off to spend the afternoon prodigalizing Damien’s bottomless stash of money and getting good mileage with the phrase “charge it” every time the cashiers asked if he’d pay in cash or card.
And lately, she hadn’t had a proper snooze because she and her team were rushing to finish a corporate publication that was a little behind schedule – their files had been corrupted so they had to re-do everything from scratch. And now, she was discovering that she couldn’t function well on just stolen catnaps, mugs of caffeine, and the occasional sugar. Even the adrenaline from Damien’s shopping spree and Miriallia’s accident was wearing out. Sheer will to be there for a friend in need was the only thing that kept her awake.
It was with a huge yawn that she looked around the empty waiting room, finding it kind of odd that there was no one there when hospital waiting rooms were almost always occupied by at least a couple of people, though she welcomed the emptiness and the availability of soft-cushioned armchairs. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she shuffled over a vacant spot, sipping the bitter decoction from the polystyrene cup.
Just as she rubbed a crick that was forming at her nape, she tripped on a loose end of the rug, sending the contents of her cup flying. And when she looked up, the once pristine suede jacket of the person in front of her was now hastily turning a darker earthy color as the coffee suffused with the cloth. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the person to whom she now owed a jacket was none other than Athrun Zala.
Athrun held the front part of his jacket a little away from him to keep the seepage from staining the white shirt he wore underneath. “Well, that was–” he looked up and a slow smile spread across his lips as recognition sparked behind his eyes “–Fancy meeting you here, Cagalli.”
Cagalli groaned, cursing her bad luck. “Why, oh why, do I keep bumping into you?”
“Maybe because you’re unconsciously wishing for it?” He started to unzip his ruined coat.
“Oh, you wish.” She hauled her feet to the trash bin and discarded the empty cup.
“You owe me a jacket, you know,” he informed her while casually observing the damage she’d done to his clothing.
Cagalli turned to him, her eyes raking over the soiled jacket he was viewing with a disinterested eye. She rolled her eyes. “Who wears suede to hospitals anyway?” That sounded stupid even to her own ears, but the lack of energy in her veins precluded her from forming a snider comment. And if she didn’t currently hate his guts, she’d actually admit that the jacket she ruined was every bit the fabulous garment he had wasted money on. She could almost hear Damien admonishing her for destroying such kind of clothing.
“Well, I did, until you demonstrated why exactly people shouldn’t wear suede in hospitals.”
Despite herself, she had the grace to feel guilty, even if the feeling was a tad belated. “Sorry ‘bout that. I tripped. I’ll–” she bit her lip at what she was about to say, knowing that his jacket must have caused a fortune “–pay for that.”
Athrun waved off her offer. “I don’t need a new jacket. You can have it dry-cleaned, you know.”
She didn’t expect that, if truth be told, but an unreasonable voice in her head told her that if he were really a gentleman, he wouldn’t have her doing him favors. She immediately squashed the thought. Why would she expect him to treat her like that when she’d made it obvious before that she didn’t appreciate being treated differently? Besides, with the short time she’d been given to know him, she’d put the puzzle pieces together and discovered that he could be as every bit annoying and cocky as the devil himself if he wanted to be.
“Why are you here anyway?” she asked, holding out her hand to take the jacket as she moved closer.
“Why are you here?”
Cagalli didn’t bother to be subtle with her irritation at how he threw the question right back at her. “Because.”
Athrun shrugged as he handed over the piece of clothing. “Then I’m here just because, too.”
He grinned, and Cagalli felt the urge to wipe it off his handsome face. She roughly tugged the jacket from his grip. Half-expecting him to hold onto it to tease her, the khaki clothing fluttered to the ground when he easily let go.
When she bent to get it, she did it too hastily that the blood rushed to her head, making her feel woozy and causing her to stumble. Had he been too slow in wrapping a firm hand around her arm to steady her, she would have fallen on the ground in an undignified heap.
When Athrun righted her, Cagalli found herself standing too close to him…just a little too close for comfort. Gulping a lump in her throat that she hated herself for, she tried to extract herself from his hold, only to have him clamp down harder to keep her rooted to her spot.
“Athrun,” she sounded a warning note, which he blatantly ignored by leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“Do something for me, will you?”
His breath tickled the sensitive skin of her ear, and when he experimentally nibbled on the tip of it, she felt her spine go rigid, rendering her too shocked to move and too bewildered to push him away. An involuntary shiver stole up her spine, and she felt him smirk against the flesh he was torturing.
“Wh–” She cleared her throat then began anew, trying to do away with the sudden onslaught of high-strung nerves that made her voice quiver slightly, “Whatever. Anything to get you out of my face.” She just hoped that that came out as forceful as she planned it to for she didn’t think she could last long in her position. She couldn’t think straight enough with him just breathing down her neck, and to actually have him pressed intimately close to her was just too cruel.
Athrun chuckled, and Cagalli all the more wanted to push him away. She really wanted to, but she was so frozen stiff that when she uttered that weak statement of defiance, she amazed herself.
“Humor me, all right?” Athrun made it sound like an order, and when he released her, he placed something against the palm of her hand, something flat, mostly smooth, and interspersed with roughness at irregular intervals.
Cagalli immediately glanced down at her hand to see a hard-plastic material she didn’t notice him retrieving from anywhere.
“I’ll see you on Friday, Cagalli,” he called out, using the time it took Cagalli to read what was embossed on the card to straighten his clothes out and slip away from her.
Cagalli whipped her head to hail him back, but the automatic glass doors that led to the anteroom of the hospital lobby were already closing behind him. She glanced down at the card again.
Eternal (Haute Couture)
A flight of fancy on the catwalk
I, Lacus Clyne, eagerly invite you to see my latest line of evening wear.
19:00, Friday, April 20, CE 71
Cagalli read each word with growing trepidation, and when her eyes landed on the three words at the bottom right corner, she just about died, only to remember that she should be angry at Athrun’s incredible arrogance in assuming that she would do his bidding: Two seats reserved.
She stomped her foot hard on the cold floor, hurling the soiled suede jacket towards an unsuspecting armchair. Why did she have to say that she’d do anything to get her out of her earlier predicament, which, incidentally, was synonymous to her earlier position? She’d bet her salary that he’d never let her hear the end of it if she backed out now. Why was she always at the losing end whenever it was Athrun she went up against?
She stomped her foot once more. The bastard!
o-o
Outside, the evening breeze blew softly around Athrun as he walked towards the parking lot. He’d gone back to the hospital after working overtime at the office to check on one of their plant workers who’d been admitted earlier that day after the accident, but he didn’t think things would turn out to be so interesting. He had planned to call her secretary and make it so like he was arranging for another meeting about her father’s purchase, but meeting her in the hospital gave him another idea, and now he’d told her what he wanted. Come Friday night, he’d see her again, and he was willing to bet his entire bank account that she would be there.
Slipping inside his Maserati, he ran his fingers through his dark hair. Then he shook his head. Teasing Cagalli Athha and sparking enough tension between them was fast becoming a bad habit, and as all bad habits went, he knew he’d have a hard time shaking this one off.
x-x-x-x-x
Thanks a lot, a lot, a lot for getting this story past the hundredth-review mark on just the fifth installment! Those reviews really spurred me to write. Honest. Thanks lots, chickadees!
When I titled it The Play of the Fates, I meant it. Lol. And now you know who Athrun had dinner with at Tavern City.
Author: Paola
Disclaimer: Play of the Fates is based on characters and situations that belong to Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asashi (and other production affiliates that have the right of ownership). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Considerations: Similarities to other stories/events/passages are purely coincidental unless otherwise cited, and beliefs and points of view found in the story do not necessarily reflect those of the author’s.
The idea to make the chapter titles begin with “The One…” is from the TV show, F.R.I.E.N.D.S
This may, in all possible intent, be differently written compared to any of the author’s previous literary ventures.
Rating: Rated M for language and adult situations. You have been warned.
Play of the Fates
Chapter Five
“Good morning, Athrun,” Lacus greeted as she pecked him on the cheek.
“Morning, man,” was Kira’s welcoming words. He pulled a chair backwards for Lacus to sit on then pulled a chair for himself.
“You’re late,” Athrun replied, re-conquering the seat he had vacated to greet his two closest friends.
The three were seated at a little nook in the breakfast inn they usually went to when they ate breakfast together, which, nowadays, rarely happened. He was almost always at PLANT, working his ass off, and his visits to Earth were few and far in between. But he didn’t have much ground to complain on since – although there were times when he was so into his job – he really didn’t care for it. Sure, he worked hard to attain what he had now, but it wasn’t a job he’d kill to remain in. It just so happened that this kind of work presented itself and he had nothing against taking it. At least, nothing much against it that could jeopardize his whole career.
Lacus giggled good-naturedly. “We’re sorry, Athrun. We got a flat tire on our way.”
Kira fleetingly eyed him before settling his eyes on Lacus, shrugging insouciantly. “You’re too kind, Lacus. He doesn’t mind waiting, you know.”
Athurn resisted the urge to roll his yes, basically because he wasn’t one to do so. “You’re too kind, Kira.”
Kira chuckled and hailed a passing waiter, who promptly handed them three menus. “Haven’t seen you in weeks. And to think we’re in the same city,” Kira off-handedly said, not bothering to look up from his bill of fare.
Lacus, however, stopped perusing the food choices and fixed Athrun an inquiring stare. “Yes, that’s right. After our little dinner at Tavern City, it’s like you’re back at the PLANTs.”
Athrun shrugged, picking up his own list. “You know how my other business visits to earth seemed like vacations? This time, I’m really working my hide off. I’ve got another meeting later at lunch.”
“But it’s a Saturday,” Kira deadpanned, like that should explain everything.
“Yes, and some of us have to work on weekends.”
Kira chuckled again. “So the boss ain’t the boss of himself.”
Lacus shook his head at her significant other. “Looks like you’re booked all throughout your stay.” She paused to inform the waiter of her order, then waited for a short while until both boys she was with were done with theirs. “How long are you staying anyway?”
“I don’t know for sure. Just for a month, initially. But I might be extending my visit.”
“For a girl?”
“What are you, thirteen? Grow up, Kira,” Athrun hurriedly pitched in, glad that he finally had Kira where he could be laughed at.
Kira appeared like he couldn’t decide if he’d let that slip, but then he grinned. “Nice one.”
Lacus was laughing as well. “You’re awfully busy, but I hope you can come to my show this coming Friday.”
Athrun almost wondered out loud about what his ex-fiancée was talking about before he remembered that Lacus was a singer-turned-fashion designer, and that she was most probably talking about a fashion show she would be holding. He mentally went over his schedule for the week, and found that if he squeezed a few of his appointments at an earlier time – for he was sure that the show would be at night – and if he moved his other calls to next week, he could make it.
“Pretty please, Athrun?”
Lacus was really very good at making him agree to whatever she was suggesting, and there were a very few times that he came out the victor and told her no. Unfortunately, today wouldn’t be one of those days. He looked at Kira for help since he knew his best friend would understand that his weekdays were tight, but the brunette simply sipped his coffee.
“That’s a lot of help there, Kira.” Kira just grinned. Athrun turned to Lacus and gave her his affirmative answer.
“That’s great! I have been working on this new line of evening wear for a whole five months!” Lacus fished something from her purse, then handed Athrun a black credit card with pink lining and gold letterings, though it seemed a little bigger than the ordinary plastic card.
“You’re giving me a credit card?”
“Why would she give you a credit card when you’ve got tons of them already?” Kira sarcastically asked, earning an ineffective glare from Athrun. “It’s the invite, Athrun Zala. Look before you ask.”
“You two little kids at our breakfast inn. Never changes,” Lacus observed from the rim of her juice glass just before she drank her fill.
Athrun ran his eyes over what was written in front, which basically was Lacus’ logo and brand name, Eternal. He then flipped the card and read the minute details engraved on it, which contained the date, time, and place of the show. Nothing much to give the show away, which he remembered was the way Lacus preferred her invites to be. Then at the bottom right corner were three little words that made him look at them appreciatively: Two seats reserved.
“I forgot to ask, how are the wedding plans?” Athrun asked after securing the invitation in his wallet.
Kira had popped the question roughly a year ago, but neither had really been in a hurry to get the wedding done as both still had their careers prioritized. It was only very recently that the couple started talking about planning the wedding.
“We haven’t agreed on a date yet, but we’re eyeing a place already. And Lacus has been designing endless numbers of gowns to choose from,” Kira replied, smiling fondly at Lacus upon finishing his sentence.
“I have not!” Lacus quickly defended herself, though a grin was threatening to steal over her features.
“Of course. Just around seven, I guess.”
Athrun laughed. “I guess wedding plans are ruffling your feathers, huh, Lacus?”
Lacus smiled, a little self-consciously this time. “Yes, a bit, but I’m really excited about it, too!”
The chatty and intimate atmosphere reigning upon the three of them was broken by a constant beeping that sounded a little too obnoxious as it disturbed one of their very few get-togethers. Instantly fishing the offending mobile phone from his pocket, Athrun excused himself to take the call.
Lacus followed Athrun’s direction towards an empty niche to answer his phone. “Don’t you think he’s working just a tiny bit too hard?”
Kira covered Lacus’ hand with his own. “It’s just something he has to do. This is something we can’t really interfere in even if we’re the best of friends.”
“I just wish there’s something we can do.”
Kira smiled understandingly at his fiancée, running his thumb over the diamond of her engagement ring that was sitting comfortably on her finger. “He’ll ask for help if he needs it. You know him.”
At that, Lacus grinned. “Yes, he’s just like you.” Her grin grew wider. “Stubborn and is horrible at hiding how childish he’s acting!”
“Hey!”
Before any of them could add to that, Athrun strode over, pocketing his mobile phone and looking at little distracted.
“Anything wrong, Athrun?” Lacus asked.
“There’s been a little accident at the plant. One of the workers may have been hurt,” he replied, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a few bills. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave.”
“It’s okay, man,” Kira piped in.
Athrun nodded at him then placed the money on the table. “Breakfast’s on me.” Then he turned and left.
o-o
The shops that lined the West Side of Orb’s shopping district weren’t very crowded, as opposed to the East Side where the towering malls littered the corners. Although the West Side shops usually catered to those who had more dollar votes, Cagalli kind of liked it there. The streets and boutiques weren’t much congested, and the area was generally less noisy. Though, sometimes, she hated the place because of the one or two snooty snobs she would occasionally bump into.
“Why do we always shop here? Or, better yet, why do you always shop here?” she asked Damien, who was carrying two designer-labeled shopping bags in each arm; she, on the other hand, had both her hands free because there really was nothing she needed to buy. And shopping for no reason wasn’t a practical idea she fondly clung to.
If a casual observer were to look at them, he’d probably think they were a couple and that Damien was being gentlemanly by carrying Cagalli’s shopping bags. That was what she liked a lot about him – he wasn’t very obviously gay. His voice wasn’t octaves out of place, and it was a good thing because Miriallia, when excited, was enough of a high-pitched talker for the both of them. If it weren’t for his insanely refined and impeccable taste in wardrobe, he’d be like any other man out there. Once, she’d even asked him to be her date for one of Orb Aesthete’s benefits, and he had graciously humored her because her break-up with her boyfriend then wasn’t one of her memories worth re-living. She’d forever love Damien for that.
“Because, luv, everything here glitters and sparkles!” Damien chirped, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Cagalli rolled her eyes. “That’s so gay, Damien!” Of course, if Damien were in the comfort of his close friends, he acted more flippantly than his female counterparts.
Damien mock glared at Cagalli through his dark-tinted sunglasses. “Well, what did you expect?” He pulled her along as they crossed the street to take a look at the shops on the other side. “Aren’t you buying anything? C’mon, luv, spend! You’re working for it!” he exclaimed, ooh-ing at a leather-strapped watch displayed on a JeanRichard store window before dragging Cagalli inside the establishment.
“That’s why I don’t spend as much as you! I have to work for it! You, on the other hand – you spoiled rotten bastard – inherited your money. You don’t even have to keep the job you have now!”
“Oh, hush! And whose fault is it anyway? You’re too proud for your own good, luv,” he responded, clearly referring to Cagalli’s relationship with her father.
As the saleswoman greeted them, Damien transferred the bags he was carrying in his left hand to his right hand then he clasped Cagalli’s right and entwined their fingers. The saleswoman glanced down at their joined hands, then returned to smiling at them, asking them if she could be of help.
Damien kissed Cagalli on the temple, and she knew instantly what he was trying to do. They always played around like this because, for one, both of them knew how good Damien looked, and, two, because they had agreed that they made a good-looking couple, if Damien were only straight.
Cagalli grinned.
“Oh yes. Her birthday’s coming up, and I thought I’d buy her one of your Lady designs.”
Cagalli inwardly arched an eyebrow, mainly because her birthday had ended a long time ago. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was saying the truth, but he’d probably just come out and say he needed to look around for a better birthday present and leave the saleswoman with her hopes of selling their product crushed. They did it often enough in the past that she had to pause and worry about some kind of karma coming and knocking on her door. Of course, it would be then that Damien would chide her for thinking about stupid stuff.
The woman, who, Cagalli thought, was really only smiling at Damien, led them to a glass counter displaying their JeanRichard TV Screen Lady watches. Cagalli almost laughed at the woman’s obvious flirtations, asking Damien senseless questions, touching his arm, laughing at his small jokes.
If only she knew…
Damien seemed to notice, too, as he wrapped an arm around Cagalli’s waist and dipped his head to feign an intimate whisper between lovers. Cagalli grinned widely when she spied the small scowl on the woman’s face.
“How about this one?” Damien murmured in her ear, quiet enough to tickle the sensitive skin, but loud enough to be heard by the woman.
Cagalli could swear the woman glared at her when Damien brushed his lips on her ear. “Oh, that’s a fine one, Damien!” she replied, adding a giggle to annoy the saleslady.
“Yes, it is,” the woman answered, a little hesitant to hand the watch to Cagalli when Damien asked her to retrieve it from the glass.
Damien took it off its case and proceeded to buckle it around Cagalli’s wrist, surprising her. Usually, their jokes didn’t lead to any of them trying on stuff. After salesladies showed them their wares, they would verbally dismiss the idea of buying and walk out of the shop faster than anyone could say Genesis.
“How do you like it?” Damien asked, running a finger down the smooth red leather strap before lifting Cagalli’s hand as if to inspect the watch at a better angle and lighting.
Cagalli stared at him instead of the watch, not quite comprehending what he was trying to do. Surely, he wasn’t thinking of buying her the watch. That was just absurd. First, she had a perfectly functional watch to begin with – along with other watches she owned – and second, there was no occasion that called for it.
She must have sounded a weird reply for Damien shook his head at her then proceeded to make business with the woman. Then the next thing she knew, he was flashing one of his plastics and signing a receipt. She didn’t even get to remove the watch before Damien guided her out the door and into the streets bathed by the afternoon sun.
“Uh…what just happened?” Cagalli asked, still a little dazed as she un-strapped her wrist of the watch since it looked ridiculous to be wearing two watches for no apparent reason. Though, now that she thought about it, it would still look ridiculous even if she had a plausible reason.
“What do you mean?” Damien casually asked as they sauntered down the avenue’s side-walk.
Cagalli dangled the Swiss ticker in front of his face when she had fallen into step beside him. “Is this really for me?”
“I don’t think it would suit me.”
“Occasion?”
“Nothing.”
Cagalli paused, retrieving the small paper bag from Damien’s hand to place the half-hunter back in its box. Then she rounded on him as a thought hit her, “Oh my god! You did something unforgivable, didn’t you? That’s why you bought me this!”
“I like how you’re so trusting and unsuspicious. Gives me a tingly feeling inside.”
The sarcasm was laid on too thick that Cagalli had to grin. “Oh come on! There’s gotta be a reason!” She paused to affect a thinking stance then glanced slyly at her friend. “Don’t tell me you’re not gay.”
“You know what, if that were true, then half of the female populace would rejoice and flock on my doorstep.”
Cagalli laughed then sobered as he had yet to answer her question. “But seriously. What’s it for, Damien?”
“I owe you two years’ worth of birthday presents.”
“What?” Cagalli asked, confused.
“Remember when I was in Europe for two straight years and never contacted you and Miriallia? I missed out on everything, and now that I’ve bought you a gift, I’ve only got Miriallia to think about.” Damien grinned at her. “I remember how you gushed about this watch when we were looking at a catalogue they sent me.”
Cagalli shook her head disbelievingly. “You buy someone lunch to make up for missed birthdays, not a watch!”
Damien rolled his cerulean eyes. “Poor people buy others lunch. I buy ‘em watches.”
“I can’t accept this, Damien. This is too much,” she argued, hefting the bag towards her friend.
“It costs more than what I usually give you. Big deal, luv. Keep it! I also missed two Christmases, didn’t I? Think of it as four gifts in one!” he exclaimed, slightly exasperated at Cagalli’s obstinacy.
Before Cagalli could reply, a mobile phone rang, and she wondered briefly if it was Damien’s, then realized that the distinctive tone was coming from her pocket. “Yes?” she answered, casting Damien a withering glance before turning her attention to the person on the other end. “Oh my god, honey! Are you all right?”
Damien immediately looked concerned at the sudden alarmed pitch in Cagalli’s voice.
“Yeah, yeah. We’re on our way.” She clicked off her phone then addressed Damien’s anticipative expression. “It’s Mir. They had a car accident, and she and her mother are in the hospital right now.”
Damien’s hand flew to his heart. “The poor darlings!”
“Mir’s all right, just a few scratches, but her mom took the brunt of the blow according to her. Damien, we better hurry! She must be feeling alone and scared right now!”
“My car’s parked all the way on the other side. Let’s take a cab!” As if on cue, a cab rounded a curb and Damien immediately hailed it. “The Kusanagi Hospital, please,” he instructed the cab driver as he and Cagalli scampered to enter the car.
Cagalli shifted and leant towards the unsuspecting driver. “And hurry!”
o-o
Cagalli rubbed her tired eyes as she inserted some coins in the vending machine, intent to get a cup of hot coffee to invigorate her dulled nerves. The clock in the waiting room told her it was past ten, and Miriallia’s mom was still in surgery.
Miriallia was all cried out now, and Damien was with her outside the operating room, which she wished would switch the red light off to signal that the operation was done. She’d had to cart herself off from the stiff seats outside the operating room or she’d be in danger of falling asleep in an awkward position and probably wake up with an equally stiff neck.
She sluggishly took a tentative sip of the murky liquid, thankful that it was still hot, but grimacing at the same time as the strong brew burnt a trail down her throat. Her energy had been drained; she’d been up since five in the morning when Damien barreled inside her apartment and forced her to jog with him. Then when they had returned to her apartment and showered, she’d barely finished her breakfast when he pulled her to his car and they sped off to spend the afternoon prodigalizing Damien’s bottomless stash of money and getting good mileage with the phrase “charge it” every time the cashiers asked if he’d pay in cash or card.
And lately, she hadn’t had a proper snooze because she and her team were rushing to finish a corporate publication that was a little behind schedule – their files had been corrupted so they had to re-do everything from scratch. And now, she was discovering that she couldn’t function well on just stolen catnaps, mugs of caffeine, and the occasional sugar. Even the adrenaline from Damien’s shopping spree and Miriallia’s accident was wearing out. Sheer will to be there for a friend in need was the only thing that kept her awake.
It was with a huge yawn that she looked around the empty waiting room, finding it kind of odd that there was no one there when hospital waiting rooms were almost always occupied by at least a couple of people, though she welcomed the emptiness and the availability of soft-cushioned armchairs. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she shuffled over a vacant spot, sipping the bitter decoction from the polystyrene cup.
Just as she rubbed a crick that was forming at her nape, she tripped on a loose end of the rug, sending the contents of her cup flying. And when she looked up, the once pristine suede jacket of the person in front of her was now hastily turning a darker earthy color as the coffee suffused with the cloth. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the person to whom she now owed a jacket was none other than Athrun Zala.
Athrun held the front part of his jacket a little away from him to keep the seepage from staining the white shirt he wore underneath. “Well, that was–” he looked up and a slow smile spread across his lips as recognition sparked behind his eyes “–Fancy meeting you here, Cagalli.”
Cagalli groaned, cursing her bad luck. “Why, oh why, do I keep bumping into you?”
“Maybe because you’re unconsciously wishing for it?” He started to unzip his ruined coat.
“Oh, you wish.” She hauled her feet to the trash bin and discarded the empty cup.
“You owe me a jacket, you know,” he informed her while casually observing the damage she’d done to his clothing.
Cagalli turned to him, her eyes raking over the soiled jacket he was viewing with a disinterested eye. She rolled her eyes. “Who wears suede to hospitals anyway?” That sounded stupid even to her own ears, but the lack of energy in her veins precluded her from forming a snider comment. And if she didn’t currently hate his guts, she’d actually admit that the jacket she ruined was every bit the fabulous garment he had wasted money on. She could almost hear Damien admonishing her for destroying such kind of clothing.
“Well, I did, until you demonstrated why exactly people shouldn’t wear suede in hospitals.”
Despite herself, she had the grace to feel guilty, even if the feeling was a tad belated. “Sorry ‘bout that. I tripped. I’ll–” she bit her lip at what she was about to say, knowing that his jacket must have caused a fortune “–pay for that.”
Athrun waved off her offer. “I don’t need a new jacket. You can have it dry-cleaned, you know.”
She didn’t expect that, if truth be told, but an unreasonable voice in her head told her that if he were really a gentleman, he wouldn’t have her doing him favors. She immediately squashed the thought. Why would she expect him to treat her like that when she’d made it obvious before that she didn’t appreciate being treated differently? Besides, with the short time she’d been given to know him, she’d put the puzzle pieces together and discovered that he could be as every bit annoying and cocky as the devil himself if he wanted to be.
“Why are you here anyway?” she asked, holding out her hand to take the jacket as she moved closer.
“Why are you here?”
Cagalli didn’t bother to be subtle with her irritation at how he threw the question right back at her. “Because.”
Athrun shrugged as he handed over the piece of clothing. “Then I’m here just because, too.”
He grinned, and Cagalli felt the urge to wipe it off his handsome face. She roughly tugged the jacket from his grip. Half-expecting him to hold onto it to tease her, the khaki clothing fluttered to the ground when he easily let go.
When she bent to get it, she did it too hastily that the blood rushed to her head, making her feel woozy and causing her to stumble. Had he been too slow in wrapping a firm hand around her arm to steady her, she would have fallen on the ground in an undignified heap.
When Athrun righted her, Cagalli found herself standing too close to him…just a little too close for comfort. Gulping a lump in her throat that she hated herself for, she tried to extract herself from his hold, only to have him clamp down harder to keep her rooted to her spot.
“Athrun,” she sounded a warning note, which he blatantly ignored by leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“Do something for me, will you?”
His breath tickled the sensitive skin of her ear, and when he experimentally nibbled on the tip of it, she felt her spine go rigid, rendering her too shocked to move and too bewildered to push him away. An involuntary shiver stole up her spine, and she felt him smirk against the flesh he was torturing.
“Wh–” She cleared her throat then began anew, trying to do away with the sudden onslaught of high-strung nerves that made her voice quiver slightly, “Whatever. Anything to get you out of my face.” She just hoped that that came out as forceful as she planned it to for she didn’t think she could last long in her position. She couldn’t think straight enough with him just breathing down her neck, and to actually have him pressed intimately close to her was just too cruel.
Athrun chuckled, and Cagalli all the more wanted to push him away. She really wanted to, but she was so frozen stiff that when she uttered that weak statement of defiance, she amazed herself.
“Humor me, all right?” Athrun made it sound like an order, and when he released her, he placed something against the palm of her hand, something flat, mostly smooth, and interspersed with roughness at irregular intervals.
Cagalli immediately glanced down at her hand to see a hard-plastic material she didn’t notice him retrieving from anywhere.
“I’ll see you on Friday, Cagalli,” he called out, using the time it took Cagalli to read what was embossed on the card to straighten his clothes out and slip away from her.
Cagalli whipped her head to hail him back, but the automatic glass doors that led to the anteroom of the hospital lobby were already closing behind him. She glanced down at the card again.
Eternal (Haute Couture)
A flight of fancy on the catwalk
I, Lacus Clyne, eagerly invite you to see my latest line of evening wear.
19:00, Friday, April 20, CE 71
Cagalli read each word with growing trepidation, and when her eyes landed on the three words at the bottom right corner, she just about died, only to remember that she should be angry at Athrun’s incredible arrogance in assuming that she would do his bidding: Two seats reserved.
She stomped her foot hard on the cold floor, hurling the soiled suede jacket towards an unsuspecting armchair. Why did she have to say that she’d do anything to get her out of her earlier predicament, which, incidentally, was synonymous to her earlier position? She’d bet her salary that he’d never let her hear the end of it if she backed out now. Why was she always at the losing end whenever it was Athrun she went up against?
She stomped her foot once more. The bastard!
o-o
Outside, the evening breeze blew softly around Athrun as he walked towards the parking lot. He’d gone back to the hospital after working overtime at the office to check on one of their plant workers who’d been admitted earlier that day after the accident, but he didn’t think things would turn out to be so interesting. He had planned to call her secretary and make it so like he was arranging for another meeting about her father’s purchase, but meeting her in the hospital gave him another idea, and now he’d told her what he wanted. Come Friday night, he’d see her again, and he was willing to bet his entire bank account that she would be there.
Slipping inside his Maserati, he ran his fingers through his dark hair. Then he shook his head. Teasing Cagalli Athha and sparking enough tension between them was fast becoming a bad habit, and as all bad habits went, he knew he’d have a hard time shaking this one off.
x-x-x-x-x
Thanks a lot, a lot, a lot for getting this story past the hundredth-review mark on just the fifth installment! Those reviews really spurred me to write. Honest. Thanks lots, chickadees!
When I titled it The Play of the Fates, I meant it. Lol. And now you know who Athrun had dinner with at Tavern City.