Kagaku Ninja-Tai Gatchaman Fan Fiction ❯ Take This Waltz ❯ Take This Waltz ( One-Shot )

Take This Waltz

...there's a piece that was torn from the morning...
....and it hangs in the gallery of frost...


"You heard me the first time." The tiny woman squared her shoulders. "I talk to your boss...or no one! Do you understand?? The BIG guy. No one else will do...and don't EVEN think for one minute that you can pull something over on me."

Nikki Karada glared at the 'contact' man who was mouthing all the correct reasons as to why her demands couldn't be met. She could feel him seething under the cool detached exterior. He didn't like "her kind" that was obvious. He was wondering now if he could do away with her....she could taste the desire for killing on his aura.

She looked hard at him now. "Not!"

"Nani?" his face a polite mask.

"If you kill me, your boss doesn't get his info...or anymore like it. I don't care....and you lose all around. Go ahead and try it. You've got one chance. Make it a good one." Her smile was frozen on her face like a death grimace. The contact must have seen something in her eyes he didn't like. He backed off, promising to deliver her message.

"Loser." She muttered, then walked back into the alley door of the club.

...and I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook
...with the photographs there and the moss


"Hmm." The dignified gentleman considered the information that had just been brought to him from an associate. He looked at the computer screen in front of him, then at the dark-haired young man standing to one side of the desk. Kozaboru Nambu, founder of the Mantle Project, youngest man to lead the council of nations, originator of the Science Ninja team, Gatchaman; was completely unused to being delivered dictates by snitches.

"Ahem.." the man in front of him cleared his throat. "Forgive me Nambu Hakase, but if this....woman....is becoming too much trouble..."

"Thank you, Stuart. I do not think that will be necessary." The ice in the tone of command in the voice brooked no argument. Dismissed, the agent left the room.

"Is the information actually that valuable, Nambu Hakase?" The quiet voice of the young man salved the tension in the man's wake.

"Well, if she has what we're looking for....Yes. It could very well be worth it. She's always been accurate in the past. I just wonder...."

"Why she would demand to talk to you?" the youth supplied. "Hai. That had occurred to me, as well. Not to over quote Joji, but it sounds like a trap."

Nambu pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses and sighed deeply. "But isn't it always, Ken?" He ran his hand over his well-kept mustache---a vanity from his college days, being the only one of his friends at the time who could grow one---then looked down at the computer again.

"Well, like they say: the best way to spring a trap is from the inside. Call G2, I want the two of you to be on stand-by....just in case. It seems that I have an invitation to a private party at the Golden Buddha."

...In the cave at the tip of the lily
...in some hall where love's never been


"...fifteen minutes, Nikki-chan!" the stage manager called into the cramped dressing room.

Nikki finished the final touches to her costume. Tonight, for this performance especially, the clothes actually meant something. She usually liked the gimmick dances. She got a kick out of the dress-up kinks out there, but this one was way on the morbid side, even for her open mind. She looked into the mirror at the stranger she'd become.

Dressed in clingy black, a la Elvira, with body paint covering her own tattoo...replacing it with one of a heart pricked by a thorned rose vine, dripping blood. Her white hair was pulled severely back and topped with a black lace veil.

She looked down for only a second to pick up a bouquet of white lilies she used as a prop, but when she looked up she nearly screamed. There, in the mirror, staring into her eyes was the man she'd demanded to speak with earlier. She hadn't heard him come in, she hadn't felt him come in. It wasn't often anyone could sneak up on her. She didn't know if she was impressed or not.

"You wished to see me?" His voice was deep and businesslike.

The get-right-down-to-it tone added to the uncomfortable feeling she had. Suddenly, she found herself in a contrary mood. 'Okay, Mister Big-shot! Two can play at that game. Snob!'

"After the show." She answered, and somehow made it out of the room and to the stage without further incident.

...Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women
...There's a shoulder where Death comes to cry


Nambu allowed the girl, for that's all she really was, to pass by. Maybe it was the very real fear he caught in her eyes when he startled her or maybe it was the way she stiffened her spine and accepted the gauntlet he hadn't even realized he'd thrown--but for whatever reason, he let her go on to the stage. He then settled just as soundlessly into the backstage area...where he could see both the audience and the rear exit of the club.

In spite of himself, he found his eyes drawn to the stage as a melancholy waltz tune echoed through the building. She was dressed in some Vampira type outfit, artistically tattered, complete with a widow's veil and glistening white lilies in her hands. She waltzed slowly around the stage with an imaginary partner...dropping lilies or articles of clothing as passed the audience of gothic vampire want-to-bes.

The mournful music left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. The girl's movements were (surprisingly?) beautiful, artistic, but there was something in the music and the atmosphere that set his nerves on edge. She was now dancing up a wrought iron spiral staircase, as she went the main portion of her costume was flung carelessly aside, so that when she reached the top she was wearing nothing but a tiny g-string held in place by silver threads and a tacky rose-bleeding heart tattoo. Realizing that the music wasn't over, and the crowd seemed to be preparing for something, Nambu took a step forward, just as the lights flickered. When they settled down again....the girl was hanging, apparently by a noose around her neck, blood dripping from her arms and wrists.

He nearly jumped out and grabbed her, until he realized that her back was arched invitingly with one leg cocked up the tiniest bit and her toes were pointed. He shivered in spite of himself. The display was ghoulish and distasteful at best. But the audience seemed to be eating it up.

...there's a lobby with nine hundred windows
...there's a tree where the doves go to die


Nikki felt her mind swimming. 'Damn! Something had gone wrong with the production!' She knew that any moment she was going to black out. She strained to hold the final position that called for the curtain. She felt the spots go out, felt the cool of darkness, and felt her feet hit the ground as she was lowered down on the guidewires.

She stumbled into the back, rubbing her throat and fighting the overwhelming feeling of encroaching panic. She couldn't see straight and she was fighting for each breath. A split second before she collapsed, she felt gentle hands steady her and a voice barking out instructions.

* * * * * * *

"Mmmmm?" As she awoke, Nikki could feel herself being lowered onto the sofa in her dressing room. She opened her eyes, to look into the face of a stranger.

"Don't try to talk." he urged her. Good advice, since her throat was aching.

She nodded her head and took a deep, comforting breath.

"I don't think you've done yourself any serious injury." He continued, as he took a cool cloth and wiped it across her face. She was surprised. It finally occurred to her just who this man was....Nambu Hakase, from the ISO....the man she'd wanted so badly to meet.

'Wonderful,' she bemoaned. 'This really lessens my position here. How'm'I gonna get what I need, if I'm acting like a wimp?' She made an attempt to sit up which was stopped by his hand.

"I needed to talk to you..." she started in a strained voice.

She looked up at him and was suddenly stuck by two things at once. His attractiveness and the depth of his sudden need to not be alone.

...and I'll yield to the flood of your beauty
...my cheap violin and my cross

The minute the girl staggered backstage, Nambu knew there was something wrong. Before he could think otherwise, he was at her side. There were already bruises forming around her neck and when she looked up at him, her vivid blue eyes pleading with him for help, he could do nothing else. He picked her up...telling the manager to call for an ambulance.

By the time he got her back to her dressing room she was breathing fine. A fact that he noted with more relief than he felt was warranted. But then again, when she opened her eyes and looked at him, he felt something else that hadn't been part of his life in many long years....desire. He tried to push it aside. There was no time to be thinking with his hormones but as hard as he attempted to push it aside, the more of the loneliness that he kept neatly bottled up inside crept out.

'Get a grip, man! She's young enough to be your child...and most likely a spy as well.' But no matter how much he pushed it aside, the loneliness echoed through his soul.

While he fought his reptilian cortex, he continued to assure himself that she was unhurt. It occurred to him that perhaps if she were wearing something he might have an easier job of getting his misguided lust under control.

He took his coat and wrapped it around her....and then turned to the manager and said....as much to his own surprise as the man's "I'll be taking her to the hospital myself. To make sure there is no actual damage done. You can cancel the request for the ambulance."

He found himself smiling down into those blue eyes before he scooped her up and carried her out to his car.

* * * * *

And somewhere in the eaves of the building G2 smirked broadly over at G1, who raised one eyebrow in mock sterness......then they broke and followed Hakase back to base.


Take This Waltz---Leonard Cohen