CadetNewb
Well-Known Member
Zeta opened her eyes. She was in dark and her head hurt. She remembered sitting on a jeep and talking with Enzo. They were drinking whatever they could. Zeta did not even remember by now. Apparently she fell asleep on the seats of the car. Enzo was so kind he put a blanket over her.
Zeta sat up and caught her head. It was some time since her head hurt this time. Last was probably when she poured her heart to Enzo and Rags few months ago. Bodyguard climbed out of the vehicle and slowly made her way into the hall. She needed a drink of water, then coffee. Or maybe she needed more alcohol. Or all of that in some random order.
Zeta made her was for the kitchen, where she drunk a glass of water. She then prepared a large mug of the blackest coffee and took a bottle of Vodka out of the fridge. Last was a jar of pickles she stuffed in pocket of her pants. With that she started making her way towards the Lounge.
It was rather late at night, so it was guaranteed that nobody else would bother him here. Save, perhaps, the Neko that was aboard the ship. The thought of that made his heart beat faster in a small spate of fear, but that quickly went away - it wasn't as though she had reason to do something to him anyways. Unless she wanted to smash him for not saving the damned squid baby. Is she petty like that? Smith didn't know.
Finding a comfy spot, Smith laid down on the only two seat couch, kicking his feet up on the most distant arm rest and tilting his hat over his eyes. He needed time to think - if he wasn't able to get what he needed in a single, highly unsavory move, he'd be forced to make several, only slightly unsavory moves under the tables. It was technically more risky overall, but that, combined with his wage should be able to set aside the amount he needed before someo -
Zeta walked in the lounge surprised that the light was on. She looked around and noticed Smith. Just a man she wanted to talk to just... this morning, before she got really drunk. All the steam she was full off was now gone. Zeta still needed to talk to him though. "Yo," she said walking in and sitting next to him without asking. She set the mug of coffee on the table next to the small sofa they sat on, along with the vodka and pickles. "Got time to talk Smitty?" She asked him.
It was just his luck. When he needed time to think alone, this happened! Maybe I should just lock myself up in my room or something. That's probably more efficient. The young man's hand reached up and tilted his hat so that a single eye could settle on the woman. "Of course Miss Five," he replied, moving to sit up, adjusting his tie, hat and glasses as he did so. "What can I help you with?" Though it was obvious she was likely drunk, he still had an image to keep. Or at least try to keep.
Zeta laughed and reached for the bottle. She opened it and had tiny little swig. It was good nicely cooled Vodka. She turned the bottle towards Smitty. "Wants some?" She asked and finally looked his way. "By the way, just call me Zeta. You do not have to play all that representative shit with me. I just want to talk."
Smith merely looked at the woman for a moment, briefly raising an eyebrow. "No thank you M - " He stopped abruptly, catching himself before he slipped up yet again. " - Zeta. What can I help you with?" the man asked. It was unlikely to be anything of interest to him, but it was only courteous to make the offer. It was part of the job he wasn't all to hot about though, he had to admit.
Zeta sighed at looked at the ceiling. She was never really so good with people and talking to them and this one was even harder then others. What to do to make him open up. First she considered shouting at him, telling him what an idiot he is, but that would not help. Zeta though that if Smitty needed something on this ship, it was friend actually. He needed to feel as part of the crew and not some extra that cow Aerin Tatst borrowed to Luca.
"Oh come on, don't you ever relax?" Zeta said and chuckled. "Have a drink, make yourself comfy. It just you and me. I promise I won't tell anybody. Also now that I thinking about, I don't even know your first name. It is always Mr. Smith this, Mr. Smith that. I can't just call you Smitty all the time now, can I?" She tried playing out the friendly card on him.
It was perhaps the road to ruin, but, now that he thought of it, he already was set on that path. So why not? "Matthew. Or just Matt I suppose," he replied. Matt took the hat off and put it aside, choosing to also loosen the tie around his neck as well. He reached out and gestured for the bottle of alcohol in the woman's hand too. "And - " He thought it over for a little moment. " - I'm not sure anymore," Smith sighed.
Zeta gave the bottle to Smitty. She then took a jar of pickles and opened them. She then offered it to him. "Have a good chug and then quickly eat one of these. Believe me, it will taste great." She said and smiled.
Matt merely frowned a little at the woman's offer. Well, I chose this. Reaching out, Smith took the pro-offered pickle and vodka, taking a swig from the alcohol. But before he could move on to crunching down on the green little vegetable-thing, the young man nearly choked on the vodka. Pounding on his chest, he explained, "That got me by surprise. I'm more used to something smooth like Whiskey or Scotch." After a small fit of coughing, he popped the slice of pickle in his mouth. "It's...not bad," he added. Ugh. Feels like drinking nothing but liquid fire and then...god, I don't even like pickles. "You said you wanted to talk?" He asked after a few more coughs.
"Yes I did," Zeta repled and smiled warmly. "This morning was shitty to all of us. I think it would be better to just put it behind us, but I just could not help but notice how fixed you were on selling that thing. Do you really need that much money? You do know that Phoenix crew is making good coin just by itself do you?" She asked him.
"Of course. But I don't know if it's fast enough," Matt replied. "Time's not exactly a buddy of mine." He took another small mouthful of the Vodka before passing it back to Zeta without being caught off guard a second time by the booze. "The payment from Origin, as well as Phoenix - both will add up to a nice sum. But only over time."
"I know you are not happy about it, but I do have a lot of money I do not have use for." Zeta said again. "You can just give it back whenever you can later, with not hurry. Well and if that could not do, or it would not be enough, just ask for help mate. Me, Luca, Rags. We would all help you. Maybe even Enzo, he loves making money."
Smith just snorted at her offer. "Whoever said I'll be around to even give it back?" he asked, tongue starting to loosen from the booze. "And whoever said it's for me?" Matt sighed - the vodka hit harder than his favorite Scotch, that was for certain. He mulled over that for a while. "I think like Scotch more. It reminds me of bacon," Matt added.
"We are in lounge," Zeta explained and pointed to minibar at the wall. "Just get a scotch for yourself Matt. Anyway, so I can take it you either need to pay something fast or you own money to someone. Either way, can't we help you?" She asked him.
"Owe money to someone?" he asked incredulously. "Zeta, do I look like someone stupid enough to get himself into debt?" Matt asked, now rising to grab some Scotch from the small mini-bar, searching about for a single malt, a glass and some ice. It wasn't as though he were angry though, just surprised that she'd think that of him. "I'm just trying to make a nice nest egg so that something will be left behind when I die." Though Matt had started to explain what he was doing as he poured out the drink, he then realized he hadn't offered any to the woman. "Want some? If not, at least smell the bottle - it'll really remind you of bacon since it smells rather smokey," he explained.
"No thanks, I will stick with Vodka." Zeta said with smile. She took a bottle and took another swig, eating a pickle afterwards. She made a funny expression as sour taste of pickle mixed with strong alcohol. She laughed out loud. "Silly Matt, don't you know that people in Luca Pavone's crew don't die? But seriously now. Want to share more with me? Maybe I would not be tossing stupid idea your way if I knew what is going on exactly."
At that, Smith looked uncertain. Hesitant. Downing the current glass, he quickly poured himself another. "Don't say we're immortal just because we're on the same ship as Luca. Personally, I just think he's got lady luck on his side. I'm just a regular guy in comparison - if she wants me dead, I'll be just that, and there's nothing any of you can do about it," he explained to her. As he drank more and more, it seemed as though his tongue was loosening bit by bit. "Damned Nekovalkyrja. Some dumbass on a throne wanted fuck-puppets but needed soldiers too, so just tried to kill two birds with one stone." Matt shook his head in frustration before drinking more of his Scotch. "Complete dumbass. The things aren't as good on the battlefield as they should be but are even more dangerous in the streets now thanks to that.""
"Well..." Zeta said. "That sounds bad. It also sounds like longer story. Why don't you tell it whole? We got whole night and you already started anyway. Might as well tell the whole thing."
Matthew scratched his chin in thought. "Maybe just the beginning then."
*****
Today.
Today was an important day. Very, in fact. He couldn't afford to have anything go wrong, so the first thing he did was get up very early. Matthew climbed out of bed, clad in boxers and tank top; he rubbed the dry sand from his eyes and made a beeline for something. Comfy white slippers, though not quite as white anymore, were what went over his feet as he walked through their small apartment silently. He didn't want to wake anyone as he made his way to the kitchen, skipping the usual rituals in the bathroom.
*****
"You wearing just boxers and tank-top?" Zeta chuckled and drank some of her coffee. "Now that is something hard to imagine. I would think you even sleep in that suit and got born in it."
"Hey!" Matt replied with a hint of anger. "...it's a nice looking suit..." Scratching his head, he recalled those times again. It was rather odd, how nostalgic he was getting at this moment. "Anyways, moving on."
*****
Instead, the first thing Matt did was wash his hands and begin cooking breakfast for four. Personally, he would have settled for something utterly simple and functional if it was just for himself, but that wasn't the case. Instead, he grabbed several eggs and began frying them on a pan, scrambling them over medium low heat; he didn't want them to cook too quickly. Matthew searched through the cabinets, a hand finally settling on just what he was looking for; a jar of salsa.
It was, naturally, expired. He sighed. A twist, and the lid popped, the seal broken. Matt cautiously sniffed the contents - he was in luck, it was still perfectly fine. As the eggs came close to finishing, he poured the contents of the jar over them, smothering it all in medium salsa. He would have gotten hot, but not everyone would have been able to stand that. And 'Hot' really wasn't that hot either, was it? With the eggs finished, he turned the heat off and placed a lid over it immediately since there wasn't any cheese to sprinkle over it, and he wanted to keep it warm for a while. At least until they woke up.
He ate his share quickly with some toast before quietly walking through their small home, their apartment, again before finally coming to stop in front of a mirror. He reached over through the shower curtains and turned it on at the hottest setting. It always did take a while to warm up, and even then, it only got warmish. He brushed his teeth, and then went into the shower. It was all mundane really. All of it. Nothing special was to be noted throughout all of this whatsoever; it was just another lower class Nepleslian taking care of his brothers and sisters before getting off to work.
Nothing special at all. That is, until Matthew donned a high quality suit, made with excellent materials and woven with precision. He had slicked and combed his brown hair back with gel, a small tub half full; it was just starting to get a little long. He'd need to get it trimmed after this. A Zen Arms "Little Killer" went into an armpit holster under his suit's jacket. No, wait. None of this was anything special either, especially in hindsight. Now, he simply looked like someone on the low end of things who happened to work at an upscale place. Most likely something minor, like a person at the help desk or something or maybe even a guard.
Of course, even that last one was pushing things.
*****
"Little killer? Really? You should have at least got a Zen-arms forty-five or one of the Styrling pieces Matt." Zeta shook her head in disbelief. What a strange Nepleslian. Little killer.
"What!? I was poor! Those things are a dime a dozen, and a laser in the gut is a laser in the gut...besides, the thing was half off even," he replied, his initial anger quickly turning into sheepishness. He took another drink.
"Mate, Zen forty-fivers are like everywhere. You can buy one of ex-marine for a beer." She said waving her hand is disbelief. "In Nepleslia you need a gun that packs a wallop to keep any bugger off."
"Yeah - back then I wasn't what you call 'experienced' you know," Matt explained to Zeta. "It's also why I don't exactly like energy weapons - personal experience following this and all that." The conversation reminded him of the earlier one he had with Naoko. It didn't matter. "Where was I?"
"You tell me about experience? I am not even sixteen years old mate." Zeta joked and laughed. "Though you were about to get to your new work in casino in the story."
He scratched the back of his head at that. "Like I said, I'm just an Average Joe in comparison to you guys." He continued the story.
*****
Soon enough, Smith (he was referred to as just 'Matt', 'Matthew' or 'Smith') arrived early to work today at the Casino, walking by the sounds of clinking coins, merry laughter and past the ever present eyes of similarly garbed employees. Usually, he risked a shy glance at the girls in the lounge; sometimes, one of them would turn at just the right moment and look right back. Even wink. Or on even rarer occasions, he'd be the one on the receiving end of a curious stare. Not today though; it was too early, so there weren't as many of them around. Plus, today was a special day. He didn't even remember they were there. Smith rounded a corner, entered a small room, and ascended.
*****
"Oh do not tell me that you and those croupier ladies were just exchanging looks?" Zeta teased Matt some more. Vodka was getting to her, and it was cute watching Smitty blush.
Matt merely stared at Zeta for a moment. "Those weren't croupier ladies Zeta." His voice was flat and rather dead serious. "Those were the playgirls belonging to some of the big shots there - I was lucky to just get away with the occasional glance to be honest. I've seen some guys...'fired' for less," he explained.
"Tough luck then," Zeta just note and drank little more of her coffee.
Smith drank a little more and went on.
*****
The first thing that greeted his ears after a long wait was the booming voice of his employer.
"Ha-ha. You waited? For the entire time?" The Boss asked, laughing. "Hot damn. It's not every day we see new blood this eager to get to work." The Boss simply slid a manilla folder over the table to Smith, who picked it up and opened it with care. He simply looked up at his Boss with surprised eyes when he finished reading. "This'll be your first deal where the other party is particularly...lively, so I want you to pick one of my personal bodyguards to come along with you." He snapped his fingers, at which the door behind Smith opened. The young man could hear soft footsteps as unseen individuals entered. And he smelled...perfume?
Turning slightly, he noted with some surprise that The Boss's retinue consisted of two nekovalkyrja, dressed identically in low-cut black dresses that only came down to roughly mid-thigh and wearing demure smiles that could have been painted. That is where all resemblance stopped, because the two of them were as different as night and day; the one was as pale as china, with fine silvery hair that fell all the way to her ass, despite the curls and bows. The other was dark - not in the sense of a natural dark, but complete sooty black - with ash and pepper hair cropped and pulled back into a shock too short to be a ponytail, only a single white forelock escaping the severe style.
Together, they said, "Hello, Mister Smith," and it sent a sort of chill down his spine; the one had a high voice, like a singer's voice, ardent, sweet and clear - even bubbly. The other was low and sultry, almost a purr, and sounded somehow ironic as if the smile was just an act. Hearing them together was like hearing the voice of two exotic, but opposed angels at once; the result was somewhere near purgatory.
"That is Nozomi," explained The Boss, articulating with his index finger, "And that is Ai." Then, the Boss laughed a bit, though not very hard. "Shin is not here at the moment."
*****
"Nekoes. I do not like where this is going." Zeta mentioned in more serious voice.
Smith went silent as Zeta spoke her mind. The glass of Scotch in his hand was swirled around before he brought it to his lips yet again, but stopped, putting it down. "That's...the first time we had really met you see. I think I may have saw them, just fleeting glances here and there, but this was the first time I spoke to her, face to face." A melancholic silence fell before he took another small drink from his glass before continuing.
*****
"And she is...?" Smith ventured, for no particular reason than to fill in all the details.
"Dead," replied The Boss, delicately balancing his cigar on the edge of the ashtray as the two bodyguards watched the discussion with painted smiles. "An unfortunate example of the sort of people you will be dealing with this evening. Ha. I bet you're excited now, aren't you?"
There was something that Smith felt was particularly malicious in The Boss's grin, so he smiled back with extreme care. A smile was a weapon to be used with moderation. The last thing he wanted to do was offend the paycheck, even though every fiber of his being was screaming caution. Smith was a negotiator. That didn't mean he was supposed to risk his health dealing with criminals. That was the job of somebody else. But, he had to impress, so that was the expression he wore; a tinge of fear, a little bit of curiosity, perhaps even a bit of mirrored amusement - but not too much. He was a toady, after all. He had to toad sometimes.
Smith opened the manila folder and took the contents into his lap to thumb through. The Boss allowed him to read over the entire documents.
The Boss cleared his throat. "Well?"
*****
"So... what was the job?" Zeta could not help but to ask, getting immersed in the story. "Was it a hit?"
"Er, no. Just some talks and all." By now, Matt was feeling a little unsteady with all the Scotch he was drinking and decided to look at the bottle. Just how much of the stuff here did I - uh oh. He merely sighed and continued on, since Zeta was apparently getting impatient.
*****
"I'm sorry?" Smith asked crisply, taking care not to look over the rim of his glasses when he looked up from the folder.
"You need an escort if you are going to play the guest for our friends at the Royal this evening. Which do you prefer? You won't offend either of them, so don't even worry about that sort of thing. They're well beyond that."
Smith had been avoiding looking at the two Nekovalkyrja behind him, near the door, ever since his first glance at them, as if merely the act of looking at them were going to get him killed. Now he forced himself to really look the two over in spite of the embarrassment. They were female killing machines, but he had to admit that they were both gorgeous; unconsciously, he swallowed.
"You were Ai?" he ventured, locking eyes with the dark one. She returned his gaze unflinching, and even smiled with empathy, just like a real person.
"Yes, Mister Smith."
"You don't have to call me 'Mister'," Smith began to explain, before he was cut off by the unmuffled guffaws of The Boss.
"You're rich," the tycoon stated, ashing the cigar and examining the stub, "The two of you are practically married already. Ha ha. Save that type of shit for the Borzoi, I'm sure they'll eat it up when they see it." Crushing the cigar out completely in the ashtray, The Boss repositioned himself in the chair, leaning back and tapping his chin with the edge of his index finger.
"You will be there a week. It is their grand opening for a new Casino, and we are one of their primary investors. However, as you can guess from that document there, it is clear they're not planning to suffer us as such a large shareholder for very much longer. It is your job, therefore, to represent this company as a majority shareholder during the board meeting they are planning. The proposal you are holding will establish another three hundred thousand shares, which we will then purchase immediately."
The Boss folded his hands together.
"You will be opposed by every single table member, but so long as you stay alive long enough to place this document on the table, and vote positively, there will be no room for dissension. I have chosen you for this, because you were specifically recommended."
Smith fingered one of his cufflinks idly while his brain translated 'specifically recommended' into 'disposable'. It did not sound like a mission that was tailored for success.
"Take a week off. This is your only job and it will pay very well." The Boss pressed a button his his desk, which turned out to be attached to an intercom, because he said; "Ruby, see Mister Matthew Smith receives per-diem, prior to his departure. Ready the limousine, he will be leaving immediately." The Boss released the intercom and looked back up with a wolfish smile.
"Make me proud."
*****
"Let me guess," Zeta stepped into Smith's story again. "Your boss made it sound all simple and easy, but it was far from that right?" She asked.
"Oh no; though it was a rather simple concept, everybody involved, myself included, well knew what kind of special, special hell this would be," Matt started to explain to Zeta. "Just make a deal with a well armed, dangerous group shot up on who knows how many drugs and come back alive with some favorable results. That was the job. Sounds simple, but really? Nope." Smith watched the ice slowly met in his glass of Scotch, diluting the alcohol as it did so. "That was going to be the first job anyways. What really set things in motion was...when I brought her home."
"Well you know what they say." Zeta said, her voice sounding strangely serious. "Don't bring your work home."
"Yeah. But I didn't have much of a choice," he sourly replied.
*****
Normally, being in a limo with a gorgeous woman, and an always beautiful Nekovalkyrja none the less, warranted a lot of partying, drinking booze, sex and general happy times. But this was Smith. Young Smith, but still Smith - something was going to be guaranteed wrong with the poor sap. Instead of doing one or more of the above with his companion, the young man had both his elbows rested on his knees, while his face was cradled in trembling hands. Yes, he remained calm and kept his cool while on front of his Boss, but right now, he wasn't in front of his Boss.
His breath came in ragged; to anyone that could peer into his mind, it wasn't a wonder why at all. 'Oh god...who's going to take care of them if they hand me a steaming hot tray of lead?! he thought. 'There's some money in the account, but what'll happen after it runs out? Scott's only 15 and in Highschool while Jamie and Missi... Things weren't looking good; Matt did fine working when he was their age only because he was helping his parents support the lot of them, but this...how in hell could they support themselves by themselves? At this rate, the Government would step in...or worse.
Too often, it was worse.
But he wouldn't have to worry about any of this if he came back alive, right?
*****
"You have big family?" Zeta could not help but to ask. She herself was of five brothers and sisters. If you can call clones from same batch that.
He scratched his head at that - it was all too likely that Zeta merely didn't hear those details, but it didn't hurt to say it again. "Sorta. Or not really. Depends on what you call big. Scott's the oldest, and he's going through University right now Or was it College? I'm not sure what's the difference to be honest - I never went myself you see."
Thinking about them, seeing the three in his mind, he went on, "Missi is the sister in the middle of the three, and she's going through Highschool right now and is in the honors classes - she was really proud of that last I recalled. And then there's Jamie, in the same Highschool as Missi. She's the chatterbox of the three I think."
"Hmm I was never in any school. Is it fun to learn there I wonder?" Zeta said, half thinking.
Matt thought back to the days when he was in school. Those days were...carefree. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. Anyways."
He continued on.
*****
Matt sat back up and instinctively loosened the tie around his neck to let off some pressure and perhaps relax a little. Fat chance; he was still as tense and worrisome as ever, the only difference being a slightly improved airflow. He cursed himself for thinking about that; if they riddled him with bullets, he'd...well, it was cliche, but quite true. Matthew's gaze wandered about as he sat in thought, randomly staring at objects while lost. It was just about here that the last thing he unknowingly stared at was Ai's bosom. His mind snapped to, suddenly realizing he'd been giving her too little, and then too much attention.
"S-sorry! I didn't - I mean - I didn't mean to ignore you! And then, then staring!" Smith suddenly panicked. "I was thinking really hard and, and, and." He stopped abruptly before muttering a quiet apology.
"Sorry." Matt spoke, an embarrassed blush on his face as he stared at the floor of the limousine.
"Uun" Ai murred, shaking her head dismissively with a faint smirk, "Don't worry about it, Mister Smith. I can tell you are very stressed right now. You may look if you wish, if it calms you down." Turning slightly, she ran her thin fingers over a flat panel, and the pale glass seperating their seats from the driver's turned an opaque onyx black. She glanced back with a sultry, half-lidded gaze, and Smith found it hard not to notice the fullness of her lips - the low cut of her dress - the faint application of makeup, not too heavy; the cute, round perkiness of her breasts that might have been impossible on a human woman. The dark, dark eyes that glittered in the dimmed lighting.
"I can also give massages, if that would help you relax. Or I can do more intimate things if that is your desire. I think you're kind of cute."
The smile never wavered. The escort didn't even blush. No modesty, there; Smith had clearly chosen the more pragmatic of the two.
*****
"Pause!" Zeta said suddenly. "If you are going to describe having sex with Neko, you don't have to. I won't look badly at if you did, I just simply does no have to hear about it mate." Zeta said.
Though he was looking over the depleting contents of the bottle of Single Malt Scotch, Matt merely smiled and shook his head. "Zeta, keep in mind that the me then was someone who carried a Little Killer. Not hard to figure out what happened knowing that, right?" he turned to direct a wry smile at her.
"Oh I see," Zeta said and smiled. "Not sure if I could refuse that in your place." She said though, nodding in admission that he could turn something so tempting.
Matt scratched his hair for what felt like the hundredth time. "Maybe I should just go on really."
*****
When it came to Matthew, the truth of the matter was, he was completely inexperienced with women despite his age. Of course he talked to them, lusted after them and so on, but that didn't mean he had actually even tried to make any real attempts at advancing upon one. Having a relationship. Going out. They were all things he never got to do, and for good reason; if he actually did have time for these kinds of things, it would have meant Matt and his family were in the good times.
Which wasn't the case at all.
So, anyone who knew Matthew Smith well enough, could understand perfectly well just what he was mentally going through right now when he said, "H-hey! Slow down! I - we just met!" he spoke, raising both his hands up in panic. "Lets just, uh, take it slow, ok?" This wasn't a textbook negotiation for him, not in the slightest. He wasn't being threatened with a gift of hot lead, or suffering verbal abuse. Instead, Matt was being assailed right through the eyes.
Because Matthew Smith was a young man of detail, he took in ever single sumptuous curve, every single iota of luscious beauty Ai had to offer. And it was a lot to take in at once. A lot. Plus, the fact that it was all being offered up to him right at this moment? Poor Matt was completely overwhelmed and out of his league.
Fortunately enough, however, the object of his current distress simply gave him an understanding smile, and politely nodded. "If that's what you like, Mister Smith. Are you from this city, originally? And I understand you have a family, here, too?"
*****
"Haha, I bet you you had a boner big like skyscraper." Zeta joked and poked Smith with one finger. She was also little drunk already, or rather again.
He snorted. "Looking back, I wish. I was actually so terrified of my job, and so nervous being with her, I might as well have had whiskey dick," Matt admitted to Zeta. "Keep in mind that I practically had 'no life' as a lot of guys would have said. Never really dated anyone, was really awkward with girls in the few years I did attend school, and dropped out to take whatever job I could get." He then reached into the counter and pulled out a small candy bar, offering to split it with Zeta. "I was pretty much out of my league."
"Yeah I guess," Zeta agreed and nodded. "Does that make you wish it would go differently now? Maybe you would have really good time."
He snorted at her reply. "What, you think this was the only chance I had?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "No, we...we got closer later on, so I wasn't exactly missing out for good or anything," Matt explained to her.
*****
The young man simply looked at her for a moment, not quite comprehending just what happened. He couldn't really explain it to be honest, but Matthew had expected her to ignore his pleas and have her way with him anyways. Thankfully, this was real life and not some Soap Opera on broadcast; people were so much more reasonable! He let out a breath of relief before collecting himself and answering. "Yeah, we've lived here for - " he paused, having it dawn on him; Matthew had never really thought of it before. "- forever."
As he let that statement stand however, his list of priorities changed about a bit when he realized something critical. "They're not my kids or anything though; we're all siblings, and I've been doing my best to support them ever since our parents died." As base as it was, he didn't want her to think he was 'taken' for some reason or another, doing so without much thought. This too, he couldn't quite understand. Why go out of his way to make this clear? A sickly feeling bubbled around in his guts.
*****
"Must have been tough, taking care of your brothers and sisters." Zeta noted and looked into Smiths eyes. "But at least you were together. My brothers just left me when we lost our purpose."
"Yeah, I guess you're right about that," He admitted. "Thanks. Well, anyways; after that, we all met up. They liked her, and she seemed to like them. Can't really tell when it comes to a Nekovalkyrja. I learned that later on the hard way - they're so utterly unpredictable it's scary," Matt explained. "To sum it up, it was a success, and the boss had us work together more and more. Obviously, being the young idiot I was, I found myself liking her." Matt downed the rest of his Scotch in one go. "Things got pretty fucking scary fast though, and I knew I had to get out of that game. I did manage to ditch her...on rather bad terms - a 12 gauge breakup of our relationship. Despite that, she's still chasing after me, and due to close association, my family as well."
Matt rose up to his feet, rather tipsy. Still, his words were solid and with conviction. "If I were to guess, she's waiting for me you see. Hanging just out at the very edges of my vision, waiting for me to come to her. I'm scared what will happen if her patience runs out, and Ai decides to come when my brother and sisters are around with me." He turned to look at Luca's bodyguard. "To be honest Zeta, and I know it sounds sick, but some part of me is actually looking forward to meeting her again. I...I actually miss her," Matthew admitted.
"Funny how people can actually 'miss' a blood soaked killing machine with awesome tits, great curves and an exotic color to her." His horrible attempt at humor fell flat on it's face, and he shook his head as it crashed and burned. "But yeah. I'm making a mad dash for as much money as possible so that if Ai gets impatient, they'll be set. And, so that they'll also be set if I go to meet her, and never come back," he explained to Zeta. "It's not something you can really help me with you see. Sometimes, I think it's better to leave well enough alone - believe me, I'm all aboard on the Phoenix when you or Luca are in a jam."
"Just...don't keep telling me to 'man up' or some shit like Luca does. I fucking hate it whenever he not-so-subtly tells me that," he told Zeta. "I know I need to and want to, but in order to do that, I need to face Ai. And come back alive of course. But obviously, I can't do that. Not yet," he explained. Munching on the bar, he mused over the Nekovalkyrja's name. "Ai. It means love you know. I honestly loved her. I think. Can't even really tell anymore to be honest - I'm not sure what it is, but whatever it was, it was what made her...snap. Having somebody who 'loved' her I think. And it wasn't suddenly either. I watched her change."
"You know Matt," Zeta started replying. "This was quite a story, but I do think I can help. First of all I can teach your some mean right hook and how to carve your initials into someone with knife, then I can teach you to drive the car or hover in a way that makes everyone on board throw up, but be completely safe. That I can do without any trouble."
She paused to drink a little more vodka and handing it to Matt. "But I am interested in one thing. What would make you use shotgun to end the relationship. Is there really no chance to talk it over? This might sound really stupid, but maybe she is in love with you too and feels betrayed. She might be Neko, but you know... Nekos are still women." She ended her short monologue with shrug.
Eying the bottle of liquid fire warily for a moment, Matt decided to take it and drink a good mouthful of the stuff, burning his throat on the way down. "No offense Zeta, but you seem to keep on mixing young me, and current me up," he pointed out to her. "I can sharpshoot, pilot giant mechs, fix said giant mechs, datamine for intel or find someone to do that, find dealers and set up some crazy good deals...I'm like one of those crazy army knives that none of the armies use anymore for some weird reason." He shrugged at that. Why didn't they use those anymore? Smith reached down and put on his hat again. "Still, thanks for the offer."
"You could be able to do all that AND have a mean right hook." Zeta joked and laughed.
He smiled back at her - out of nowhere, a small knife flipped up and out of his sleeve to hang in the air briefly, only to fall back into it as it dropped. "Punching is not quite my speed, but again, thanks," he replied, tipping his hat to her. As Matt was just about to leave though, something stayed his feet. And he half mumbled something, his voice low and just barely heard by Zeta.
"We were all...going to make a break for it. Stop playing the game. Sounds cheesy, but I promised Ai that we'd be together, all of us, forever." He turned to look at Zeta over his shoulder, what she could see of his expression twisted with remorse. "But, I lied of course. I didn't think she was...safe for them to be around anymore. So. I left her behind." Adjusting his tie and making sure his hat was on just right, he spoke one last time before leaving.
"Good night Miss Zeta Five. It has been a pleasure talking to you."
"Good night Matt," Zeta called behind him as he stepped out the door. "Just one last thing," she added, stopping him in his tracks. "Saying 'sorry' can sometimes save you a lot of trouble. Try it someday, or you might getting bloody nose."
Without so much as another glance back or word, Smith was gone.
__________
Credits:
Present Time - Shotjon and CadetNewb
Flashback - Gallant and CadetNewb
Zeta sat up and caught her head. It was some time since her head hurt this time. Last was probably when she poured her heart to Enzo and Rags few months ago. Bodyguard climbed out of the vehicle and slowly made her way into the hall. She needed a drink of water, then coffee. Or maybe she needed more alcohol. Or all of that in some random order.
Zeta made her was for the kitchen, where she drunk a glass of water. She then prepared a large mug of the blackest coffee and took a bottle of Vodka out of the fridge. Last was a jar of pickles she stuffed in pocket of her pants. With that she started making her way towards the Lounge.
It was rather late at night, so it was guaranteed that nobody else would bother him here. Save, perhaps, the Neko that was aboard the ship. The thought of that made his heart beat faster in a small spate of fear, but that quickly went away - it wasn't as though she had reason to do something to him anyways. Unless she wanted to smash him for not saving the damned squid baby. Is she petty like that? Smith didn't know.
Finding a comfy spot, Smith laid down on the only two seat couch, kicking his feet up on the most distant arm rest and tilting his hat over his eyes. He needed time to think - if he wasn't able to get what he needed in a single, highly unsavory move, he'd be forced to make several, only slightly unsavory moves under the tables. It was technically more risky overall, but that, combined with his wage should be able to set aside the amount he needed before someo -
Zeta walked in the lounge surprised that the light was on. She looked around and noticed Smith. Just a man she wanted to talk to just... this morning, before she got really drunk. All the steam she was full off was now gone. Zeta still needed to talk to him though. "Yo," she said walking in and sitting next to him without asking. She set the mug of coffee on the table next to the small sofa they sat on, along with the vodka and pickles. "Got time to talk Smitty?" She asked him.
It was just his luck. When he needed time to think alone, this happened! Maybe I should just lock myself up in my room or something. That's probably more efficient. The young man's hand reached up and tilted his hat so that a single eye could settle on the woman. "Of course Miss Five," he replied, moving to sit up, adjusting his tie, hat and glasses as he did so. "What can I help you with?" Though it was obvious she was likely drunk, he still had an image to keep. Or at least try to keep.
Zeta laughed and reached for the bottle. She opened it and had tiny little swig. It was good nicely cooled Vodka. She turned the bottle towards Smitty. "Wants some?" She asked and finally looked his way. "By the way, just call me Zeta. You do not have to play all that representative shit with me. I just want to talk."
Smith merely looked at the woman for a moment, briefly raising an eyebrow. "No thank you M - " He stopped abruptly, catching himself before he slipped up yet again. " - Zeta. What can I help you with?" the man asked. It was unlikely to be anything of interest to him, but it was only courteous to make the offer. It was part of the job he wasn't all to hot about though, he had to admit.
Zeta sighed at looked at the ceiling. She was never really so good with people and talking to them and this one was even harder then others. What to do to make him open up. First she considered shouting at him, telling him what an idiot he is, but that would not help. Zeta though that if Smitty needed something on this ship, it was friend actually. He needed to feel as part of the crew and not some extra that cow Aerin Tatst borrowed to Luca.
"Oh come on, don't you ever relax?" Zeta said and chuckled. "Have a drink, make yourself comfy. It just you and me. I promise I won't tell anybody. Also now that I thinking about, I don't even know your first name. It is always Mr. Smith this, Mr. Smith that. I can't just call you Smitty all the time now, can I?" She tried playing out the friendly card on him.
It was perhaps the road to ruin, but, now that he thought of it, he already was set on that path. So why not? "Matthew. Or just Matt I suppose," he replied. Matt took the hat off and put it aside, choosing to also loosen the tie around his neck as well. He reached out and gestured for the bottle of alcohol in the woman's hand too. "And - " He thought it over for a little moment. " - I'm not sure anymore," Smith sighed.
Zeta gave the bottle to Smitty. She then took a jar of pickles and opened them. She then offered it to him. "Have a good chug and then quickly eat one of these. Believe me, it will taste great." She said and smiled.
Matt merely frowned a little at the woman's offer. Well, I chose this. Reaching out, Smith took the pro-offered pickle and vodka, taking a swig from the alcohol. But before he could move on to crunching down on the green little vegetable-thing, the young man nearly choked on the vodka. Pounding on his chest, he explained, "That got me by surprise. I'm more used to something smooth like Whiskey or Scotch." After a small fit of coughing, he popped the slice of pickle in his mouth. "It's...not bad," he added. Ugh. Feels like drinking nothing but liquid fire and then...god, I don't even like pickles. "You said you wanted to talk?" He asked after a few more coughs.
"Yes I did," Zeta repled and smiled warmly. "This morning was shitty to all of us. I think it would be better to just put it behind us, but I just could not help but notice how fixed you were on selling that thing. Do you really need that much money? You do know that Phoenix crew is making good coin just by itself do you?" She asked him.
"Of course. But I don't know if it's fast enough," Matt replied. "Time's not exactly a buddy of mine." He took another small mouthful of the Vodka before passing it back to Zeta without being caught off guard a second time by the booze. "The payment from Origin, as well as Phoenix - both will add up to a nice sum. But only over time."
"I know you are not happy about it, but I do have a lot of money I do not have use for." Zeta said again. "You can just give it back whenever you can later, with not hurry. Well and if that could not do, or it would not be enough, just ask for help mate. Me, Luca, Rags. We would all help you. Maybe even Enzo, he loves making money."
Smith just snorted at her offer. "Whoever said I'll be around to even give it back?" he asked, tongue starting to loosen from the booze. "And whoever said it's for me?" Matt sighed - the vodka hit harder than his favorite Scotch, that was for certain. He mulled over that for a while. "I think like Scotch more. It reminds me of bacon," Matt added.
"We are in lounge," Zeta explained and pointed to minibar at the wall. "Just get a scotch for yourself Matt. Anyway, so I can take it you either need to pay something fast or you own money to someone. Either way, can't we help you?" She asked him.
"Owe money to someone?" he asked incredulously. "Zeta, do I look like someone stupid enough to get himself into debt?" Matt asked, now rising to grab some Scotch from the small mini-bar, searching about for a single malt, a glass and some ice. It wasn't as though he were angry though, just surprised that she'd think that of him. "I'm just trying to make a nice nest egg so that something will be left behind when I die." Though Matt had started to explain what he was doing as he poured out the drink, he then realized he hadn't offered any to the woman. "Want some? If not, at least smell the bottle - it'll really remind you of bacon since it smells rather smokey," he explained.
"No thanks, I will stick with Vodka." Zeta said with smile. She took a bottle and took another swig, eating a pickle afterwards. She made a funny expression as sour taste of pickle mixed with strong alcohol. She laughed out loud. "Silly Matt, don't you know that people in Luca Pavone's crew don't die? But seriously now. Want to share more with me? Maybe I would not be tossing stupid idea your way if I knew what is going on exactly."
At that, Smith looked uncertain. Hesitant. Downing the current glass, he quickly poured himself another. "Don't say we're immortal just because we're on the same ship as Luca. Personally, I just think he's got lady luck on his side. I'm just a regular guy in comparison - if she wants me dead, I'll be just that, and there's nothing any of you can do about it," he explained to her. As he drank more and more, it seemed as though his tongue was loosening bit by bit. "Damned Nekovalkyrja. Some dumbass on a throne wanted fuck-puppets but needed soldiers too, so just tried to kill two birds with one stone." Matt shook his head in frustration before drinking more of his Scotch. "Complete dumbass. The things aren't as good on the battlefield as they should be but are even more dangerous in the streets now thanks to that.""
"Well..." Zeta said. "That sounds bad. It also sounds like longer story. Why don't you tell it whole? We got whole night and you already started anyway. Might as well tell the whole thing."
Matthew scratched his chin in thought. "Maybe just the beginning then."
*****
Today.
Today was an important day. Very, in fact. He couldn't afford to have anything go wrong, so the first thing he did was get up very early. Matthew climbed out of bed, clad in boxers and tank top; he rubbed the dry sand from his eyes and made a beeline for something. Comfy white slippers, though not quite as white anymore, were what went over his feet as he walked through their small apartment silently. He didn't want to wake anyone as he made his way to the kitchen, skipping the usual rituals in the bathroom.
*****
"You wearing just boxers and tank-top?" Zeta chuckled and drank some of her coffee. "Now that is something hard to imagine. I would think you even sleep in that suit and got born in it."
"Hey!" Matt replied with a hint of anger. "...it's a nice looking suit..." Scratching his head, he recalled those times again. It was rather odd, how nostalgic he was getting at this moment. "Anyways, moving on."
*****
Instead, the first thing Matt did was wash his hands and begin cooking breakfast for four. Personally, he would have settled for something utterly simple and functional if it was just for himself, but that wasn't the case. Instead, he grabbed several eggs and began frying them on a pan, scrambling them over medium low heat; he didn't want them to cook too quickly. Matthew searched through the cabinets, a hand finally settling on just what he was looking for; a jar of salsa.
It was, naturally, expired. He sighed. A twist, and the lid popped, the seal broken. Matt cautiously sniffed the contents - he was in luck, it was still perfectly fine. As the eggs came close to finishing, he poured the contents of the jar over them, smothering it all in medium salsa. He would have gotten hot, but not everyone would have been able to stand that. And 'Hot' really wasn't that hot either, was it? With the eggs finished, he turned the heat off and placed a lid over it immediately since there wasn't any cheese to sprinkle over it, and he wanted to keep it warm for a while. At least until they woke up.
He ate his share quickly with some toast before quietly walking through their small home, their apartment, again before finally coming to stop in front of a mirror. He reached over through the shower curtains and turned it on at the hottest setting. It always did take a while to warm up, and even then, it only got warmish. He brushed his teeth, and then went into the shower. It was all mundane really. All of it. Nothing special was to be noted throughout all of this whatsoever; it was just another lower class Nepleslian taking care of his brothers and sisters before getting off to work.
Nothing special at all. That is, until Matthew donned a high quality suit, made with excellent materials and woven with precision. He had slicked and combed his brown hair back with gel, a small tub half full; it was just starting to get a little long. He'd need to get it trimmed after this. A Zen Arms "Little Killer" went into an armpit holster under his suit's jacket. No, wait. None of this was anything special either, especially in hindsight. Now, he simply looked like someone on the low end of things who happened to work at an upscale place. Most likely something minor, like a person at the help desk or something or maybe even a guard.
Of course, even that last one was pushing things.
*****
"Little killer? Really? You should have at least got a Zen-arms forty-five or one of the Styrling pieces Matt." Zeta shook her head in disbelief. What a strange Nepleslian. Little killer.
"What!? I was poor! Those things are a dime a dozen, and a laser in the gut is a laser in the gut...besides, the thing was half off even," he replied, his initial anger quickly turning into sheepishness. He took another drink.
"Mate, Zen forty-fivers are like everywhere. You can buy one of ex-marine for a beer." She said waving her hand is disbelief. "In Nepleslia you need a gun that packs a wallop to keep any bugger off."
"Yeah - back then I wasn't what you call 'experienced' you know," Matt explained to Zeta. "It's also why I don't exactly like energy weapons - personal experience following this and all that." The conversation reminded him of the earlier one he had with Naoko. It didn't matter. "Where was I?"
"You tell me about experience? I am not even sixteen years old mate." Zeta joked and laughed. "Though you were about to get to your new work in casino in the story."
He scratched the back of his head at that. "Like I said, I'm just an Average Joe in comparison to you guys." He continued the story.
*****
Soon enough, Smith (he was referred to as just 'Matt', 'Matthew' or 'Smith') arrived early to work today at the Casino, walking by the sounds of clinking coins, merry laughter and past the ever present eyes of similarly garbed employees. Usually, he risked a shy glance at the girls in the lounge; sometimes, one of them would turn at just the right moment and look right back. Even wink. Or on even rarer occasions, he'd be the one on the receiving end of a curious stare. Not today though; it was too early, so there weren't as many of them around. Plus, today was a special day. He didn't even remember they were there. Smith rounded a corner, entered a small room, and ascended.
*****
"Oh do not tell me that you and those croupier ladies were just exchanging looks?" Zeta teased Matt some more. Vodka was getting to her, and it was cute watching Smitty blush.
Matt merely stared at Zeta for a moment. "Those weren't croupier ladies Zeta." His voice was flat and rather dead serious. "Those were the playgirls belonging to some of the big shots there - I was lucky to just get away with the occasional glance to be honest. I've seen some guys...'fired' for less," he explained.
"Tough luck then," Zeta just note and drank little more of her coffee.
Smith drank a little more and went on.
*****
The first thing that greeted his ears after a long wait was the booming voice of his employer.
"Ha-ha. You waited? For the entire time?" The Boss asked, laughing. "Hot damn. It's not every day we see new blood this eager to get to work." The Boss simply slid a manilla folder over the table to Smith, who picked it up and opened it with care. He simply looked up at his Boss with surprised eyes when he finished reading. "This'll be your first deal where the other party is particularly...lively, so I want you to pick one of my personal bodyguards to come along with you." He snapped his fingers, at which the door behind Smith opened. The young man could hear soft footsteps as unseen individuals entered. And he smelled...perfume?
Turning slightly, he noted with some surprise that The Boss's retinue consisted of two nekovalkyrja, dressed identically in low-cut black dresses that only came down to roughly mid-thigh and wearing demure smiles that could have been painted. That is where all resemblance stopped, because the two of them were as different as night and day; the one was as pale as china, with fine silvery hair that fell all the way to her ass, despite the curls and bows. The other was dark - not in the sense of a natural dark, but complete sooty black - with ash and pepper hair cropped and pulled back into a shock too short to be a ponytail, only a single white forelock escaping the severe style.
Together, they said, "Hello, Mister Smith," and it sent a sort of chill down his spine; the one had a high voice, like a singer's voice, ardent, sweet and clear - even bubbly. The other was low and sultry, almost a purr, and sounded somehow ironic as if the smile was just an act. Hearing them together was like hearing the voice of two exotic, but opposed angels at once; the result was somewhere near purgatory.
"That is Nozomi," explained The Boss, articulating with his index finger, "And that is Ai." Then, the Boss laughed a bit, though not very hard. "Shin is not here at the moment."
*****
"Nekoes. I do not like where this is going." Zeta mentioned in more serious voice.
Smith went silent as Zeta spoke her mind. The glass of Scotch in his hand was swirled around before he brought it to his lips yet again, but stopped, putting it down. "That's...the first time we had really met you see. I think I may have saw them, just fleeting glances here and there, but this was the first time I spoke to her, face to face." A melancholic silence fell before he took another small drink from his glass before continuing.
*****
"And she is...?" Smith ventured, for no particular reason than to fill in all the details.
"Dead," replied The Boss, delicately balancing his cigar on the edge of the ashtray as the two bodyguards watched the discussion with painted smiles. "An unfortunate example of the sort of people you will be dealing with this evening. Ha. I bet you're excited now, aren't you?"
There was something that Smith felt was particularly malicious in The Boss's grin, so he smiled back with extreme care. A smile was a weapon to be used with moderation. The last thing he wanted to do was offend the paycheck, even though every fiber of his being was screaming caution. Smith was a negotiator. That didn't mean he was supposed to risk his health dealing with criminals. That was the job of somebody else. But, he had to impress, so that was the expression he wore; a tinge of fear, a little bit of curiosity, perhaps even a bit of mirrored amusement - but not too much. He was a toady, after all. He had to toad sometimes.
Smith opened the manila folder and took the contents into his lap to thumb through. The Boss allowed him to read over the entire documents.
The Boss cleared his throat. "Well?"
*****
"So... what was the job?" Zeta could not help but to ask, getting immersed in the story. "Was it a hit?"
"Er, no. Just some talks and all." By now, Matt was feeling a little unsteady with all the Scotch he was drinking and decided to look at the bottle. Just how much of the stuff here did I - uh oh. He merely sighed and continued on, since Zeta was apparently getting impatient.
*****
"I'm sorry?" Smith asked crisply, taking care not to look over the rim of his glasses when he looked up from the folder.
"You need an escort if you are going to play the guest for our friends at the Royal this evening. Which do you prefer? You won't offend either of them, so don't even worry about that sort of thing. They're well beyond that."
Smith had been avoiding looking at the two Nekovalkyrja behind him, near the door, ever since his first glance at them, as if merely the act of looking at them were going to get him killed. Now he forced himself to really look the two over in spite of the embarrassment. They were female killing machines, but he had to admit that they were both gorgeous; unconsciously, he swallowed.
"You were Ai?" he ventured, locking eyes with the dark one. She returned his gaze unflinching, and even smiled with empathy, just like a real person.
"Yes, Mister Smith."
"You don't have to call me 'Mister'," Smith began to explain, before he was cut off by the unmuffled guffaws of The Boss.
"You're rich," the tycoon stated, ashing the cigar and examining the stub, "The two of you are practically married already. Ha ha. Save that type of shit for the Borzoi, I'm sure they'll eat it up when they see it." Crushing the cigar out completely in the ashtray, The Boss repositioned himself in the chair, leaning back and tapping his chin with the edge of his index finger.
"You will be there a week. It is their grand opening for a new Casino, and we are one of their primary investors. However, as you can guess from that document there, it is clear they're not planning to suffer us as such a large shareholder for very much longer. It is your job, therefore, to represent this company as a majority shareholder during the board meeting they are planning. The proposal you are holding will establish another three hundred thousand shares, which we will then purchase immediately."
The Boss folded his hands together.
"You will be opposed by every single table member, but so long as you stay alive long enough to place this document on the table, and vote positively, there will be no room for dissension. I have chosen you for this, because you were specifically recommended."
Smith fingered one of his cufflinks idly while his brain translated 'specifically recommended' into 'disposable'. It did not sound like a mission that was tailored for success.
"Take a week off. This is your only job and it will pay very well." The Boss pressed a button his his desk, which turned out to be attached to an intercom, because he said; "Ruby, see Mister Matthew Smith receives per-diem, prior to his departure. Ready the limousine, he will be leaving immediately." The Boss released the intercom and looked back up with a wolfish smile.
"Make me proud."
*****
"Let me guess," Zeta stepped into Smith's story again. "Your boss made it sound all simple and easy, but it was far from that right?" She asked.
"Oh no; though it was a rather simple concept, everybody involved, myself included, well knew what kind of special, special hell this would be," Matt started to explain to Zeta. "Just make a deal with a well armed, dangerous group shot up on who knows how many drugs and come back alive with some favorable results. That was the job. Sounds simple, but really? Nope." Smith watched the ice slowly met in his glass of Scotch, diluting the alcohol as it did so. "That was going to be the first job anyways. What really set things in motion was...when I brought her home."
"Well you know what they say." Zeta said, her voice sounding strangely serious. "Don't bring your work home."
"Yeah. But I didn't have much of a choice," he sourly replied.
*****
Normally, being in a limo with a gorgeous woman, and an always beautiful Nekovalkyrja none the less, warranted a lot of partying, drinking booze, sex and general happy times. But this was Smith. Young Smith, but still Smith - something was going to be guaranteed wrong with the poor sap. Instead of doing one or more of the above with his companion, the young man had both his elbows rested on his knees, while his face was cradled in trembling hands. Yes, he remained calm and kept his cool while on front of his Boss, but right now, he wasn't in front of his Boss.
His breath came in ragged; to anyone that could peer into his mind, it wasn't a wonder why at all. 'Oh god...who's going to take care of them if they hand me a steaming hot tray of lead?! he thought. 'There's some money in the account, but what'll happen after it runs out? Scott's only 15 and in Highschool while Jamie and Missi... Things weren't looking good; Matt did fine working when he was their age only because he was helping his parents support the lot of them, but this...how in hell could they support themselves by themselves? At this rate, the Government would step in...or worse.
Too often, it was worse.
But he wouldn't have to worry about any of this if he came back alive, right?
*****
"You have big family?" Zeta could not help but to ask. She herself was of five brothers and sisters. If you can call clones from same batch that.
He scratched his head at that - it was all too likely that Zeta merely didn't hear those details, but it didn't hurt to say it again. "Sorta. Or not really. Depends on what you call big. Scott's the oldest, and he's going through University right now Or was it College? I'm not sure what's the difference to be honest - I never went myself you see."
Thinking about them, seeing the three in his mind, he went on, "Missi is the sister in the middle of the three, and she's going through Highschool right now and is in the honors classes - she was really proud of that last I recalled. And then there's Jamie, in the same Highschool as Missi. She's the chatterbox of the three I think."
"Hmm I was never in any school. Is it fun to learn there I wonder?" Zeta said, half thinking.
Matt thought back to the days when he was in school. Those days were...carefree. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. Anyways."
He continued on.
*****
Matt sat back up and instinctively loosened the tie around his neck to let off some pressure and perhaps relax a little. Fat chance; he was still as tense and worrisome as ever, the only difference being a slightly improved airflow. He cursed himself for thinking about that; if they riddled him with bullets, he'd...well, it was cliche, but quite true. Matthew's gaze wandered about as he sat in thought, randomly staring at objects while lost. It was just about here that the last thing he unknowingly stared at was Ai's bosom. His mind snapped to, suddenly realizing he'd been giving her too little, and then too much attention.
"S-sorry! I didn't - I mean - I didn't mean to ignore you! And then, then staring!" Smith suddenly panicked. "I was thinking really hard and, and, and." He stopped abruptly before muttering a quiet apology.
"Sorry." Matt spoke, an embarrassed blush on his face as he stared at the floor of the limousine.
"Uun" Ai murred, shaking her head dismissively with a faint smirk, "Don't worry about it, Mister Smith. I can tell you are very stressed right now. You may look if you wish, if it calms you down." Turning slightly, she ran her thin fingers over a flat panel, and the pale glass seperating their seats from the driver's turned an opaque onyx black. She glanced back with a sultry, half-lidded gaze, and Smith found it hard not to notice the fullness of her lips - the low cut of her dress - the faint application of makeup, not too heavy; the cute, round perkiness of her breasts that might have been impossible on a human woman. The dark, dark eyes that glittered in the dimmed lighting.
"I can also give massages, if that would help you relax. Or I can do more intimate things if that is your desire. I think you're kind of cute."
The smile never wavered. The escort didn't even blush. No modesty, there; Smith had clearly chosen the more pragmatic of the two.
*****
"Pause!" Zeta said suddenly. "If you are going to describe having sex with Neko, you don't have to. I won't look badly at if you did, I just simply does no have to hear about it mate." Zeta said.
Though he was looking over the depleting contents of the bottle of Single Malt Scotch, Matt merely smiled and shook his head. "Zeta, keep in mind that the me then was someone who carried a Little Killer. Not hard to figure out what happened knowing that, right?" he turned to direct a wry smile at her.
"Oh I see," Zeta said and smiled. "Not sure if I could refuse that in your place." She said though, nodding in admission that he could turn something so tempting.
Matt scratched his hair for what felt like the hundredth time. "Maybe I should just go on really."
*****
When it came to Matthew, the truth of the matter was, he was completely inexperienced with women despite his age. Of course he talked to them, lusted after them and so on, but that didn't mean he had actually even tried to make any real attempts at advancing upon one. Having a relationship. Going out. They were all things he never got to do, and for good reason; if he actually did have time for these kinds of things, it would have meant Matt and his family were in the good times.
Which wasn't the case at all.
So, anyone who knew Matthew Smith well enough, could understand perfectly well just what he was mentally going through right now when he said, "H-hey! Slow down! I - we just met!" he spoke, raising both his hands up in panic. "Lets just, uh, take it slow, ok?" This wasn't a textbook negotiation for him, not in the slightest. He wasn't being threatened with a gift of hot lead, or suffering verbal abuse. Instead, Matt was being assailed right through the eyes.
Because Matthew Smith was a young man of detail, he took in ever single sumptuous curve, every single iota of luscious beauty Ai had to offer. And it was a lot to take in at once. A lot. Plus, the fact that it was all being offered up to him right at this moment? Poor Matt was completely overwhelmed and out of his league.
Fortunately enough, however, the object of his current distress simply gave him an understanding smile, and politely nodded. "If that's what you like, Mister Smith. Are you from this city, originally? And I understand you have a family, here, too?"
*****
"Haha, I bet you you had a boner big like skyscraper." Zeta joked and poked Smith with one finger. She was also little drunk already, or rather again.
He snorted. "Looking back, I wish. I was actually so terrified of my job, and so nervous being with her, I might as well have had whiskey dick," Matt admitted to Zeta. "Keep in mind that I practically had 'no life' as a lot of guys would have said. Never really dated anyone, was really awkward with girls in the few years I did attend school, and dropped out to take whatever job I could get." He then reached into the counter and pulled out a small candy bar, offering to split it with Zeta. "I was pretty much out of my league."
"Yeah I guess," Zeta agreed and nodded. "Does that make you wish it would go differently now? Maybe you would have really good time."
He snorted at her reply. "What, you think this was the only chance I had?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "No, we...we got closer later on, so I wasn't exactly missing out for good or anything," Matt explained to her.
*****
The young man simply looked at her for a moment, not quite comprehending just what happened. He couldn't really explain it to be honest, but Matthew had expected her to ignore his pleas and have her way with him anyways. Thankfully, this was real life and not some Soap Opera on broadcast; people were so much more reasonable! He let out a breath of relief before collecting himself and answering. "Yeah, we've lived here for - " he paused, having it dawn on him; Matthew had never really thought of it before. "- forever."
As he let that statement stand however, his list of priorities changed about a bit when he realized something critical. "They're not my kids or anything though; we're all siblings, and I've been doing my best to support them ever since our parents died." As base as it was, he didn't want her to think he was 'taken' for some reason or another, doing so without much thought. This too, he couldn't quite understand. Why go out of his way to make this clear? A sickly feeling bubbled around in his guts.
*****
"Must have been tough, taking care of your brothers and sisters." Zeta noted and looked into Smiths eyes. "But at least you were together. My brothers just left me when we lost our purpose."
"Yeah, I guess you're right about that," He admitted. "Thanks. Well, anyways; after that, we all met up. They liked her, and she seemed to like them. Can't really tell when it comes to a Nekovalkyrja. I learned that later on the hard way - they're so utterly unpredictable it's scary," Matt explained. "To sum it up, it was a success, and the boss had us work together more and more. Obviously, being the young idiot I was, I found myself liking her." Matt downed the rest of his Scotch in one go. "Things got pretty fucking scary fast though, and I knew I had to get out of that game. I did manage to ditch her...on rather bad terms - a 12 gauge breakup of our relationship. Despite that, she's still chasing after me, and due to close association, my family as well."
Matt rose up to his feet, rather tipsy. Still, his words were solid and with conviction. "If I were to guess, she's waiting for me you see. Hanging just out at the very edges of my vision, waiting for me to come to her. I'm scared what will happen if her patience runs out, and Ai decides to come when my brother and sisters are around with me." He turned to look at Luca's bodyguard. "To be honest Zeta, and I know it sounds sick, but some part of me is actually looking forward to meeting her again. I...I actually miss her," Matthew admitted.
"Funny how people can actually 'miss' a blood soaked killing machine with awesome tits, great curves and an exotic color to her." His horrible attempt at humor fell flat on it's face, and he shook his head as it crashed and burned. "But yeah. I'm making a mad dash for as much money as possible so that if Ai gets impatient, they'll be set. And, so that they'll also be set if I go to meet her, and never come back," he explained to Zeta. "It's not something you can really help me with you see. Sometimes, I think it's better to leave well enough alone - believe me, I'm all aboard on the Phoenix when you or Luca are in a jam."
"Just...don't keep telling me to 'man up' or some shit like Luca does. I fucking hate it whenever he not-so-subtly tells me that," he told Zeta. "I know I need to and want to, but in order to do that, I need to face Ai. And come back alive of course. But obviously, I can't do that. Not yet," he explained. Munching on the bar, he mused over the Nekovalkyrja's name. "Ai. It means love you know. I honestly loved her. I think. Can't even really tell anymore to be honest - I'm not sure what it is, but whatever it was, it was what made her...snap. Having somebody who 'loved' her I think. And it wasn't suddenly either. I watched her change."
"You know Matt," Zeta started replying. "This was quite a story, but I do think I can help. First of all I can teach your some mean right hook and how to carve your initials into someone with knife, then I can teach you to drive the car or hover in a way that makes everyone on board throw up, but be completely safe. That I can do without any trouble."
She paused to drink a little more vodka and handing it to Matt. "But I am interested in one thing. What would make you use shotgun to end the relationship. Is there really no chance to talk it over? This might sound really stupid, but maybe she is in love with you too and feels betrayed. She might be Neko, but you know... Nekos are still women." She ended her short monologue with shrug.
Eying the bottle of liquid fire warily for a moment, Matt decided to take it and drink a good mouthful of the stuff, burning his throat on the way down. "No offense Zeta, but you seem to keep on mixing young me, and current me up," he pointed out to her. "I can sharpshoot, pilot giant mechs, fix said giant mechs, datamine for intel or find someone to do that, find dealers and set up some crazy good deals...I'm like one of those crazy army knives that none of the armies use anymore for some weird reason." He shrugged at that. Why didn't they use those anymore? Smith reached down and put on his hat again. "Still, thanks for the offer."
"You could be able to do all that AND have a mean right hook." Zeta joked and laughed.
He smiled back at her - out of nowhere, a small knife flipped up and out of his sleeve to hang in the air briefly, only to fall back into it as it dropped. "Punching is not quite my speed, but again, thanks," he replied, tipping his hat to her. As Matt was just about to leave though, something stayed his feet. And he half mumbled something, his voice low and just barely heard by Zeta.
"We were all...going to make a break for it. Stop playing the game. Sounds cheesy, but I promised Ai that we'd be together, all of us, forever." He turned to look at Zeta over his shoulder, what she could see of his expression twisted with remorse. "But, I lied of course. I didn't think she was...safe for them to be around anymore. So. I left her behind." Adjusting his tie and making sure his hat was on just right, he spoke one last time before leaving.
"Good night Miss Zeta Five. It has been a pleasure talking to you."
"Good night Matt," Zeta called behind him as he stepped out the door. "Just one last thing," she added, stopping him in his tracks. "Saying 'sorry' can sometimes save you a lot of trouble. Try it someday, or you might getting bloody nose."
Without so much as another glance back or word, Smith was gone.
__________
Credits:
Present Time - Shotjon and CadetNewb
Flashback - Gallant and CadetNewb
