Sparrow's New Nest

Bad Habit

2008-09-06T08:40:00.000-07:00

BAD HABIT

There are just some things in life that you do out of habit. Not because you like to do it. Not because you consciously do it. But you do it out of habit. Subconsciously, like the way a compass needle points to the north. Like what kind of benefit does biting your nails or shaking your leg bring or flicking your hair? Arguably energies expended in those activities could be better use elsewhere. These are but innocuous habits, there are habits which are more destructive, more crippling... Habits which evolve into addiction...

And that was something Veralidaine Sarrasri was keen to avoid.

'So this is what drug addicts feel like when they try to go cold turkey...' Daine thought, catching herself shaking her leg vigoriously before forcing herself to stop. To still. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sun. 'I'm here... at the beach, away from civilisation, away from distractions, to contemplate, to go cold turkey and to stop my bad habit.'The sand felt cool under her and she flopped down, spreading her legs and arms, trying to make a "snow angel" in the sand. The breeze tickled her face and ran playfuly through her hair.

She wondered briefly on where all this excess energy was coming from. She was never a fidgety person, never twitchy. Yet, now, she was all, shaking and movement, hoping from one foot the other, ocassionally bursting into "Damnit" and "I'm a stupid fool" temporarily stunning unsuspecting passerbyers.

Still.

Yes, she needed to be still. Serene. Calm. Like the sea.

She curled onto her side and thought, 'When did this bad habit first start? Hmm... It was that Numair Salmalin who suggested it. The one who lulled me into this habit, the one who is the cause of this situation! Why oh why, did I go along with his suggestion though I stupidly knew somewhere in the back of my mind that it was a bad idea?'

"ARGHHH!!!" She screeched, abruptly flopping onto her back, scaring some birds into flight.

Her conscience pricked her, 'Fine, fine, so it was not entirely his fault. He had never mislead me, he had never lied to me. I just chose to go along, and let my habit become worse and worse and worse and...' She sighed and closed her eyes against the glare of the sun.

She felt gently yet oh so familar lips caress hers, before the kiss deepened such as to make her toes curl. She opened her eyes as the person moved on to nibble on her ear.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

He nuzzled her neck, "Finding you. You've been avoiding me."

"Of course I am," She muttered, "And you are supposed to be co-operative and stay away."

He paused and frowned at her. "Why are you trying to avoid me?"

She looked directly into his dark eyes and said, "Because you are my bad habit."

"Your what?"

She twisted away from his arms which were much too distracting. "You're my bad habit Numair Salmalin. I'm in a bad habit of contacting you everyday, of thinking of you, of being too reliant on you even though I know you are only temporarily in my life. There's just no logical reason why I should talk to you, become emotionally dependent on you when I know that I'm not your type. I know that this is just a summer fling before we all go back to university. There's just no good reason why I should feel compelled to seek you out in the first place when I know that this is going nowhere. That when university starts, you'll be back surrounded by your usual blondes, I'll be back with my books. I look at your previous flings, and they are better than in me in every single way. I don't deceive myself into thinking that I'm prettier, heck no, I don't even delude myself into thinking that hey, my personality is so much better and I'm a much better person than them. Bull shit. Your previous fling Jenna was a good hearted character out of a book. Where she would patiently wait for a mother with a pram to move out of the way in a crowded place, I would most likely go, 'move your big fat ass. you shouldn't be bringing your baby out in such a crowded place and blocking people's way, if you want to stop, go to the side you inconsiderate twit!' And so correspondingly, I should try and get someone around my standards, and not someone out of my league."
Daine rolled on her belly and tried to jungle crawl out of his arms when Numair simply let his weight rest upon her.

"Ah yes Daine, why didn't I think of it that way as well," Numair said, ignoring her mutters of protest. He leaned over to rub his nose against her cheek, before resting his cheek against hers. "I am the top student in the university, you're an average student. You're from an alright family background, but my parents are from old money. I'm six foot five, purportedly one of the best looking people on campus while you go by. Not too ugly, not drop dead gorgeous-" Daine elbowed him at that. "- yet here I am, in this bad habit of wanting to touch you, wanting to hear your voice. Hunting you down maniacally when I don't see you. Coming to this isolated beach and walking around like some dog looking for his lost master. There is no logical reason why I would do such things when there are far better girls available."

Daine closed her eyes. "So we're even. We have a bad habit. There is no way to explain this but that we just developed such bad habits over this holiday."

Numair flipped Daine over, surprising her with his strength before trapping her with his weight. "My dear Veralidaine Sarrasri, just because you are doing something that is illogical and without any reasonable basis necessarily means that it is a bad habit."

Daine raised an eyebrow, and sighed, "We're suffering from some mental disease?"

"No..." Numair replied, "This is called love. That though objectively you may not be the best, but to me, you are everything I want or need. I think you have the most beautiful eyes with an incomparable shade of not blue, yet not grey. I like how you are a good hearted person, yet with your own faults so that you ground me, yet I won't feel too stifled or unnatural around you. Because you understand weaknesses, having some of your own, and you are able to accept me as I am without holding me to some impossible standard."

He gently stroked her cheek, "I love you Veralidaine Sarrari." He kissed her deeply and so tenderly that her heart skipped a beat.

"I still think you're a bad habit," Daine said, clearing her throat awkwardly, breaking the moment. Numair growled and nipped her on the neck. She smiled.

Friends with Benefits 8

2008-05-03T23:14:00.000-07:00

If one wants to look busy, all one has to do is to have some papers strown around, books at open pages and have a highlighter in hand. After that, one is perfectly free to look contemplatively in the distance, and anyone would assume that person is thinking.

Or at least, that is what Numair likes to think. He had a lot to think and his latest thesis was the furthest thing from his mind. He shook his head, 'How can this be? I am normally able to shut off the outside world from my enclave at the office and just work. Always thought people who were not able to concentrate were just weak mined fools. But now...'

"ARGH!" He vocalised his frustration. His prey had been most elusive lately. She seemed to be drifting further and further away. Every time he tried to reach out, she just shied away. It was frustrating. It was damn frustrating, when you try so hard, when you view someone with so much importance, but it is just not reciprocated. What can you do? Throw a trantrum? Demand the person treat you better? Which sometimes defeats the purpose, for what you want is the person's willingness and desire to naturally put you in high importance. Maybe he was getting old. Old enough that he was not at all tempted by Varice's advances which would normally have him in a obliging mood. Instead, he felt rather detached and couldn't help thinking about someone with smokey hair, blue-grey eyes... He was rather honest with himself, he had a type. That type was blonde, voluptous, mature. Not slender, individualistic and frustrating... yes, very frustrating...

His reverie was interrupted when he felt, rather than saw someone climb onto his lap. He looked down in surprise. She pushed his chair further away from his desk and clambered onto his lap. It was rather good that he had long legs, for there was more than enough space for Daine to sit on his lap.

Daine looked at Numair, who had an unscrutinable expression. 'Perhaps that is what Miri meant when she said when Numair did work, he was in the zone'.

"Shh..." Daine said, putting her finger on his lips as they started to part. She nuzzled his neck and said rather shyly, "I lo-like you." She rested her head against his chest and heard the thumping of his heart. 'It's beating rather fast,' Daine thought as a hand gently cupped her face and lifted her chin to face him.

Numair rubbed his nose against hers so she was unable to see his expression. He cuddled her tightly against him. They sat there for a while before Daine started to wriggle her way out of his arms. "So? Tell me, what do you think?" Daine demanded.

"Bossy little baggage, ain't you?" Numair murmured.

"Hurry up," Daine said, "time is awasting. If you don't like me, say so. I'll just adjust my mindset and move on."

"No," Numair replied, squeezing her tightly.

"What do you mean no? You are frustrating you know! I don't know how you think," Daine pointed out. "Cut me a break and tell me if you like me or not. It's already embarassing for me as a girl to make the first move."

"Then why did you?" Numair asked.

"I was... of two minds about it, whether I should just sit here and wait... or do something about it... I know I am not your type, I know that I am defintely not superior to any of the girls you have around you. It's not that I have a better personality, nor am I any nicer, or any more gorgeous. If you wanted someone better, you are able to find her in a snap among your harem.... But I just had to know... and... I know you probably don't like me, but I just had to try..." her voice hitched a bit, "I thought and I thought about it, but thought, oh heck, if someone was to break my heart, I wanted it to be you." She cleared her throat, "So hurry up and tell me. So i can quickly start moving on."

"Daine," Numair started and Daine felt that her heart was beating unnaturally hard and loud. "You're right, I don't like you."

Daine's breath hitched in her throat and she tried to take slow and deep breaths so that she would not tear though she felt her throat closing up. "I see...." Daine croaked and pretended to cough.

She struggled when Numair tried to make her look at him in the eye. She finally acquiscenced and blinked rapidly. "Daine, I don't like you, I love you."

"What?" Daine spluttered.

"Surely you don't think friends with benefits operate the way we do," Numair grinned. "We are practically a couple in all by name."

"Varice?" Daine felt compelled to highlight.

"Is the past. Something which I cannot change. But you are my future. My last and only." 'And the first and last girl I'll ask to marry,' Numair added mentally, the ring was weighing heavily in his pocket.

And that was more than Daine had ever thought she could ask for.

Friends with Benefits 7

2007-12-26T07:19:00.000-08:00

I absolutely cannot believe that I have not posted or updated any fic in ages!!! Until I received a ff.net review and the reviewer pointed out that I had not updated BSNS for almost a year and I was thinking... wait... *counts on fingers* OH MY GOSH, she/he is correct!! Anyway, here's the next instalment of Friends with Benefits. One more instalment after this and it'll be done. Please note the rating!

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'I must have done something wrong in this life, the last life and the next life,' Daine thought, and started praying devoutly that something would happen to get her out of this situation. She was at Thayet's party, which was rather high brow and all. All was fine and dandy, she was prepared to grab a drink and skulk in a corner since she did not come with Numair. This was of course, done with quite a bit of effort, having avoided his calls in the past few days. She would have loved to back out of the party, but Miri forcefully dragged her along. Thayet was Miri's boss and Miri wanted company since Evin was out of town. She had wandered around Thayet's villa to find a quiet room to sulk in when she stumbled across a coven.

A coven of witches.

Okay, so she should not be that mean. But the way they were cackling gleefully was frightening. She did not realise till one of them had snared her into a sofa that there all had one thing in common. No, not that they were all blonde and voluptuous, though they all were, except her. Not that they were mature and sophisticated. Not that they were mean and horrible, though Daine would have loved for all of them to be so. Some were nasty, but some were nice. But these five women in front of her had something in common with her which was less than flattering.

Numair.

She was stuck in a sitting room with Numair's past lovers. It was appalling really, and downright embarassing. Although she thought privately that she shouldn't be that surprised since he was a busy bunny after all before he met her.

"Weelllll," Genevieve purred. "We were comparing notes, but there is nothing like getting a recent update on what we are missing."

Daine blushed a a deep shade of red and the others laughed.

"My goodness!" Alicia giggled, "You are a novelty. Blushing at your age indeed! I thought Numair would have made you grow out of your blushes by now!"

It didn't help that Daine turned a deeper shade of red.

"Oh my! Don't tell me the rumours are true that the great Numair Salmalin fell to a blushing virgin," Genevieve smiled, "And at this age, how rare are you!"

"Well, tell us, does he still do that wonderful thing with his fingers?" Reina asked. Daine was a fiery red while the others agreed.

"Must be all the handling of all the scientific instruments and such," Alicia mused. "He has such nice long fingers..." the rest cackled. One by one they revealed something they had liked about Numair. Which made Daine feel more and more depressed as it showed her how temporal she was. She could not compete physically with these beautiful women. And sweet Lydia who was defending Daine was defintely nicer than Daine would ever be. Lydia seemed the kind who would pander to a male's needs, the soft and cuddlely female. Daine seemed like a cactus next to her.

"How about you Daine? You've heard all of us spill the beans," Genevieve purred. Daine blinked, shaken out of her thoughts. 'Darn, I should have escaped while they were sharing, but I was just so curious!!'

Daine racked her brain to say something that was not so... personal.. "Well, he still hogs the covers, and he has the nasty habit of treating me like a teddy bear. He would haul me to his side in the middle of the night and it is such a struggle to get out of bed in the morning. He is heavy..." She stopped at the others' wide eyed gazes.

"You sleep with him?" Genevieve squeaked in surprise.

"Uh.. yeah... didn't all of you?" Daine responded. "Sleep with him? After all, how would you get all these details?"

"We had sex, but we didn't sleep with him. He refused to stay over," Alicia retorted bluntly.

"Not that I begged him to stay overnight," Genevieve said. "But he didn't offer and I didn't offer."

"Well, I asked him as it was three am in the morning and it was such a long drive back to his place since we were at a hotel after all, but he refused," Alicia said huffily.

"She is rather scrawny," Genevieve scrutinised Daine, "So she wouldn't take up much bed space."

Lydia shook her head, "I think he treats her differently from us."

"How can it be? Look at her, a scrawn underfed, unattractive spawn of mortal get," Genevieve hissed.

"Genevieve!" Lydia scolded. "You don't have to be so mean."

"Well, he's not here with her," Genevieve sniffed. "Naturally, since Varice is back in town." Daine blinked, and tried to stay expressionless.

"Well, we all know for sure he doesn't say the L word," Alicia remarked. "It is a sure fire way to cool any man's ardour. Especially someone like Numair Salmalin."

"He's a decent sort," Lydia said. "He doesn't want to lead people on and doesn't use the word loosely. In fact, I don't think I ever recalled him saying that word."

"Not even a I love pizza or I love the way you look tonight," Alicia giggled.

Daine blinked and held her tongue, remembering Numair drawing her close to him at night and saying he loved the way he smelt, the way she felt. He always stopped short of saying that he loved her, not that she expected it, but had always took it that he was free with words. Like the way some people would go "I love you" randomly to any person.

Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't realise that the others had fallen silent till, she felt arms scoop her out of the sofa. "What?" she spluttered in surprise as familar arms carried her out of the room.

"Excuse us ladies," Numair said, quickly making his way out of the room as he began to feel Daine struggle.

"What are you doing?" Daine hissed.

"Doesn't all ladies like to be swept off their feet?" Numair queried.

"You should know best with your experience," Daine snorted. Numair blushed. He actually blushed! Daine was rather amused and surprised at this. She squeezed him and nuzzled his cheek, "You're kinda cute you know."

Numair went into a deeper shade of red.

A distance away, unseen by the couple, Genevieve remarked in surprise, "I've never seen him blush before. Never ever. Not like some love struck teenage boy."

Lydia smiled, "I told you so."

Friends With Benefits 6

2007-12-14T07:18:00.000-08:00

This series of drabbles is going to end very soon. The end's in sight!

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Miri had never thought Daine as being a moody and intense person.

Stubborn?

Yes.

Whimiscal?

Yes.

But brooding? That adjective reminded Miri of men who stood near fire places to brood while the storm raged outside the manson. And Daine never fitted that adjective till now. She was actually brooding. Brooding! Here. Now. In front of Miri. In front of Daine's favourite cookies and cream ice cream. In front of Daine's MELTING favourite cookies and cream ice cream.

"Spit it out Daine," Miri said and sighed when Daine continued to brood. "Hello???" Miri said loudly.

Daine looked at Miri and stared.

"Come on, you're brooding and you never brood. What are you thinking about?" Miri probed.

Daine brooded a while more before saying, "Miri, is it better to have loved and lost or not love at all?"

Miri raised her eyebrows, "Loved and lost of course! You only have one life you know. I rather just feel the dizzyness and breathlessness of love than not at all. Like, how you would go to a foreign country to try new things or try expensive new things? You would go and try even though you will only be able to try it that once since you may not go back to that country again."

Daine finally cracked a whisper of a smile. "That is the weirdest analogy I have ever heard."

"Uh huh, probably not that weird to the man who recently bought the world's most expensive truffle."

"Hmm..." Daine murmured, "It's just that, I have this friend who asked me a very thought-provoking question."

Miri held her silence as she waited for Daine to continue. "Well, she has met this guy who she knows will never ever be interested in her and she has a... crush on him... She wonders whether she should just let go and enjoy the feeling, let it develop. There will be highs and lows, but the highs will be even higher than if she just pragmatically crushes the feelings she has now. If it is self-preservation, she should just cut off ties and let go... But argh!" Daine shook her head.

"Who says she can't end up with the guy? Isn't that how relationships develop? The initial attraction which deepens into something more?" Miri questioned.

"Well... it's the equivalent of you having a crush on Orlando Bloom. He's way out there and completely unattainable." Daine replied. "On one hand, I think it's great to experience things in life, but I feel like, she should think more of the long term pain she will feel when it ends."

"It really depends on what is her goal in life," Miri said. "I can't make the decision for her. I can get what you are saying, but my philosophy in life is to live life, so it's natural I would just indulge in the feeling."

"Hmm..." Daine murmured. "Goal in life..."

Drabble: Friends with Benefits 5

2007-11-18T08:31:00.000-08:00

Argh, exams time. To relieve some stress, wrote this drabble. Remember, it's T-rated. So there's some hinty bits at the end.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Daine shuffled nervously from foot to foot. Her hand hovering over Numair's doorbell. 'Oh come on Daine, it's not like this is the first time you've been to his place. You've done a lot more than just talk here. What are you so nervous about? That he's not home alone?' That last thought incensed her and she jabbed at the doorbell impatiently.

"Don't he dare forget about our agreement. If he dares breach it, I'll kill him, yes, I'll kill him," Daine hissed.

Numair opened the door to find Daine pacing outside his house. She spun and saw him and all her carefully formulated words just flew out of her mind as he was dressed in nothing but a towel hanging around his waist.

"Daine," Numair said in surprise, it was the first time Daine had ever visited him without any prompting on his part.

Daine was trying to work her vocal cords when Numair's gaze suddenly shifted to something behind her and he stiffened.

"Hi big boy..." a flirtatious voice purred. Daine's heckles rose and she knew who it was without turning around. "Ain't you going to invite us in?"

Numair's gaze flickered to Daine and Daine felt a surge of annoyance. Was he implying that he did not want her here? That she was an obstacle to his lovey-dovey-ness with Varice? That she was the THIRD PARTY? She gritted her teeth and pushed past him into his house.

"I'll go change," he said, and made his way towards his room.

Varice sauntered in after Daine, her heels clicking across the wooden floor. "Don't change on my account," she said and tossed her head.

'Argh, she looks like some shampoo commercial!' Daine thought, and was incredibly conscious of her unruly curls. Varice was dressed to seductive perfection with a red trench coat and knee high boots. It was unknown whether she was wearing anything under the trench coat and that probably drove man wild. Whatever it is, an ample amount of cleavage was displayed for male appreciation. Daine felt virginal next to Varice, with a flowery sun dress and sandals.

While Daine sat on the couch, Varice lounged on it. "So little girl, what's your story?" Varice asked.

"My story?" Daine asked, trying not to growl.

"Yes, are you his colleague? Student? Having a crush on him? The like," Varice suggested.

"A crush on him?" Daine spluttered.

Varice laughed, "Oh come on, you know you're not his type. He goes after the more sophisticated females. But he is kind hearted, I grant you that. Which is why he will let you down easy, no worries about that! You remind me of a puppy, lolling around after him."

Daine felt cold, "I'm not lolling around him!"

"He may not have realised, but I have seen the way you look at him." Varice said, "Oh wait, don't tell me, both of you are in a relationship?"

Daine opened her mouth and hesitated.

Varice leaned over and patted her hand. "I don't mean to appear to be the evil witch from hell, here to take away your man. But in reality, is he even your man in the first place? If you truly are his girlfriend, so be it, you're more than entitled to warn me off and I'll respect that. If not, he's fair game isn't he? And don't lie to me about your status of your relationship with him, I don't see how any self-respecting woman would allow her boyfriend to see his first love and date her."

"First love?" Daine squeaked.

"We go a long way back, Numair and I. I was his first, you know, and you never forget your first." Varice said, smiling to herself at some unseen memory.

Daine felt cold, Numair was her first and she knew that she would always have a soft spot for him.

"If it wasn't for the fact that he had to go overseas, we would have, you know." Varice said and shook her head. "Whatever it is, let the best girl win. I just hope you won't play on his sympathies and soft side, by acting like some poor puppy. In the end, if it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be. No matter how much you want it, or how much you try to hang on to it. A relationship works both ways. And you're way out of your league." She got up and started walking towards the kitchen, "Do you want a drink?"

"No," Daine seethed. "I'll be right back." She stalked into Numair's room and saw him turn around his surprise as he fastened his trousers. She kicked the door shut and pounced on him.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Daine slid off Numair and began to put on her underwear and adjust her clothing. In her haste, they had not been fully unclothed. Numair leaned against the wall panting. He straightened and internally winced, Daine had been eager to leave physical marks on his body. Without looking at the mirror, he knew that he probably had scratch marks on his back and a smattering of love bites on his shoulder and neck.

Daine did not look at him as she opened his bedroom door. She paused and said quietly, "Goodbye Numair."

She walked out and raised an eyebrow at Varice who was lounging on the couch. "You better go back. I don't think he's in a mood to see you or any other girl," she remarked and walked out of the door.

CHOOSE what Drabble for me to Write!

2007-09-05T09:30:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone!

I did not realise how long it had been since I last updated! Anyway, to sort of make up for my long absence, decided to give someone an opportunity to choose what drabble for me to write. Was thinking how to go about doing this and decided to come up with this challenge rather than a first come first serve or random choosing method...

CHOOSE what Drabble for me to Write!!

Do you want to choose what drabble I should write the next installment for? Friends with Extra Benefits? Room mate? etc Or do you have an entirely new idea you want to see fleshed out in a drabble?

Well, this is an opportunity for you to do so. Just come up with the best story description for The Jacket for me to post on ff.net (you know, those words below the story title that describes the story) and you can choose what drabble for me to write!

DEADLINE: BEFORE 13th September 2007 (Thursday)

TO ENTER

Just send me an e-mail at sg_sparrow_nest@yahoo.com with the following:
1. Name (or nick or whatever you call yourself)
2. E-mail add (which you want me to e-mail you to. make sure it's valid as I do have to contact you to discuss any finer details about the drabble choice)
3. Story Description of The Jacket (has to be 245 characters and below due to ff.net space limit)
4. Drabble choice (list 2 options in order of priority, can be existing or new drabbles)
5. the following declaration - "I , *fill in name*, agree to let Sparrow use my story description for The Jacket on ff.net and have read the terms on her blog relating to "CHOOSE what Drabble for me to Write!""

The following is a sample of how it's supposed to look like when it's filled up.
1. Name:
Numair

2. E-mail add:
numair@ilovedaine.com

3. Story Description of The Jacket:
Daine takes someone's jacket by mistake, is its owner interested in Daine for more than just the return of his jacket? (this IS my current story description by the way)

4. Drabble Choice:
(i) existing drabble - Room Mate
(ii) new drabble - how about Numair as a vampire meeting Daine!

5. Declaration:
"I , Numair, agree to let Sparrow use my story description for The Jacket on ff.net and have read the terms on her blog relating to "CHOOSE what Drabble for me to Write!""

TERMS, DETAILS & EXPLANATION (MUST READ!!)

Story Description
1. It has to be 245 CHARACTERS or less. Simply because ff.net doesn't allow more characters!
2. To read The Jacket or what there is of it, you can look through my blog or, check it out at http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3768927/1/The_Jacket
3. NO vulgarities, etc or anything that is in breach of ff.net rules.
4. I may use a modified version of your story description.

Choice of Drabble
1. I want 2 choices listed just in case 1 of them is not feasible. But I will take my best efforts to write the first choice!!
2. PLEASE note that I will take up to ONE MONTH to write the drabble. (Of course I will try to write ASAP, but I must make it clear now that it may take more time than that if the drabble you want is particularly difficult or I have any school tests thrown in my way.)
3. If you suggest a new drabble and give me the idea, I will credit the idea to you in the drabble
4. For existing drabbles, you can just click on the "drabble" hyperlink you see below to see all the drabbles I've written so far. You can suggest me to continue any.
5. For new drabbles, well, I guess I'll leave it up to you to write what story idea or scene or theme or even just give prompt words and see what I'll make of it. It can be modern, old, Tortall, Mars, etc etc. The skies the limit, so choose what you want!
(i) Keep in mind that it is just a DRABBLE, so it will be only one to a few pages. So don't put it a too complicated plot line that will take me the length of BSNS to write! A plot idea is sufficient. I may just capture a scene from your plot idea. e.g. "love triange between Numair, Daine and Kaddar." I may not write the whole story of how it unfolds, but may choose just to capture a snap shot of this plot idea.
(ii) I write only T-rated the max. So please don't request of any fics that will be beyond a T-rating on ff.net!!!!! And no, I don't use vulgarities or any morally objectionable ideas. Also, it shouldn't be against ff.net rules.
(iii) I will have total and complete discretion to write in whichever direction I wish based on your idea. So whatever drabble I churn out is final. I am not going to keep re-writing the drabble.
(iv) Drabble should concern Daine and/or Numair or the characters in The Immortals.
6. This is of course, the first time I'm opening up for requested drabbles, so just write what you wish and we'll see how it goes. If I have any troubles with your drabble choice, I will discuss it with you.

Decisions
1. Which story description I decide to be the best is FINAL.
2. If I don't like any of the story descriptions, I will not use any of them. BUT I will choose the best among them and reward the winner anyway with the requested drabble.
3. If nobody enters this challenge, I just get a longer writing holiday and write as I please. hahahahaha. (This drabble writing will not change my intention to update BSNS. In case you're wondering.)
4. Whether I publish the drabble on my blog or on ff.net as well is up to my discretion.

MIA

2007-05-11T02:48:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

this will probably come to a great dismay and perhaps irritation (hee hee), that I've finished my examinations, but will be overseas to take a break. I'll come back and finish up the last bit of The Jacket, BSNS, then drabble, roughly in that order. Bon Voyage!!

Drabble: Amnesia

2007-05-07T09:35:00.000-07:00

I couldn't see. I whined and twisted. I couldn't open my eyes, and I felt pain. Pain all over my body from deep wounds and broken bones. I couldn't move my hands to touch my face.

"Shhhh... be still..." came a gravelly maternal voice. "You've been heavily wounded, be still or your injuries will worsen."

I hear a bark and felt a presence come behind me. A muzzle sniffed comfortingly at my cheek and the creature lay behind me. A comforting warm presence. Its tail curled around me and I stilled. His scent was familar and a vague memory of the scent and presence distracted me for a moment, but it was sufficient for the woman to force my mouth open and slip something down my throat. I gasped in pain, but felt my consciousness slowly recede.

"Don't fight it, you need your rest to recover." those were the last words I heard as I slipped into slumber.

Drabble: Friends with Benefits 4

2007-05-07T09:07:00.000-07:00

Daine's eyes narrowed as Varice laughed her twinkling laugh and placed her hand casually on Numair's arm. She had to resist from growling, but distracted herself by taking a sip of water. Ever since that meddling little blonde "dropped by" in town, Numair's visits had decreased.

Daine admitted to herself silently that she took it for granted that except for the first time she asked Numair to start such a strange relationship, Numair had been the one initiating their meetings and other, er hum... He would normally appear at her door after work, with some bags of food. But now...

Daine's hand on her water glass tensed. She assumed that he was out gallivanting with dear Varice since he did not give any reason for his absence. But since his recent lack of attention coincided with the blonde's appearance, it did not take a genius to figure out where his mind lay. A strange foreign feeling ran through her as Varice rubbed his back affectionately. "Ah, stop being such a jealous witch," Evin jibbed, following Daine's gaze. "Don't hate her just because she's perfect!"

"Aw stop that," Daine frowned, swatting Evin. She, Evin and Miri were discussing about their recent project at work in the restaurant when Daine observed Numair's entrance with Varice.

"Yeah, big boobs, blonde, a figure to die for. She's like a real life barbie doll," Miri mused. "I wonder how she walks without toppling over." Daine hid a grin, but thought to herself, 'I have to talk to Numair about ground rules... No touching of blondes and vice versa... that's an extension of the existing monogamy requirement right? Just further refinement of that rule.'

Drabble: Friends with Benefits 3

2007-04-24T19:29:00.000-07:00

"Sorry, what did you just say?" Numair asked, his heart beating rapidly and his body pumped full of adrenaline. He stared at Daine who was busy preparing her lunch in the kitchen while he temporarily stopped setting the table.

"I said," Daine repeated, brisking stir-frying the noodles. "Do you know of any available alright looking guys who's unattached and doesn't mind dating a brunette like me?"

"Why?" Numair asked, stalking dangerously towards Daine, forcing his fist to unclench.

"Oh, I have a company function this friday night and have to bring a date," Daine explained, not noticing Numair's look of relief. "It's so embarassing to be the only unattached and unmarried person at my company. Everyone will be cooing over children pictures or romantic getaways and so and so bought me this and that. yada yada."

"Why not bring me?" Numair asked lightly.

"You?" Daine looked at him in surprise, her attention taken away from her lunch. "Are you sure this is not some form of contractual breach of the friends with benefits thing? I thought this kind of thing is strictly taboo. Like how you're not supposed to bring your mistress to a official function or something."

"I'm not your mistress and this is not the fifteen century. And ain't I better than just bringing a random guy to the party? If you didn't bring some random stranger you're trying to make me hook you up with, you would bring a friend. I'm a friend, ain't I?" Numair said soothingly, sliding his arms around Daine's waist.

"Yeah well, I don't know, I always had the impression that friends with benefits was a wham bam thank you mam kind of thing. Just in and out of bed like that," Daine muttered.

Numair rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. "Rubbish, you watch too much television. All kinds of relationships are different and depends on the parties. Just like you treat different friends differently, you have different sort of friends with benefits relationships. After all, the monogamy you requested is also not a typical requirement of 'friends with benefits'. Or are you saying you want a different kind of 'friends with benefits' type of thing?"

Daine shook her head vehemently, "No, I'm pretty happy the way things are now. You're even better than Miri's boyfriend, I must say. You help to clean, cook, putter around the house surprisingly. You tolerate all my girly activities like chick flicks and shopping. Argh! This is just all so confusing! There's no beginner's guide to a friends with benefits relationship. I don't know what I'm supposed to do or not to do."

Numair cuddled Daine and kissed her on the cheek, "Don't worry, this is your first time at this sort of thing. Just leave it all to me. You can do whatever you want, I'll tell you if you are doing anything that disturbs me. Trust me alright?"

Daine sighed, "So, do you know of anyone who-" she turned around in his arms and looked up to him. "-knows where to get good dresses?"

"Yes," Numair grinned and hugged her tightly. "I'll pick you up on Friday."

Drabble: slave for you

2007-04-18T20:19:00.000-07:00

hmm... a bit mature... in the sense of idea like the friends with benefits thing, so don't follow people. DO NOT read if you cannot read Friends with Benefits level.

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"SAY IT!" Daine demanded. Numair looked utterly shocked and gaped. Although he was dressed in an immaculate business suit, he had discarded his jacket and tie and loosened his collar and few first buttons of his shirt to reveal a strong muscled chest. He had also rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. When he came to the club to celebrate the closing of a lucrative business deal with a small rising firm, he had no idea how he had allowed himself to be egged on by the misogynst assistant of the other side to comment that his business counterpart's personal assistant Daine lacked any sort of sex appeal. Flat as a board, mousy as a... mouse? Worse still was when he didn't realise that she was standing behind him to pass her boss Farrant some papers.

Numair later went into the VIP room, wanting to get away from the noise and Farant's sudden lost of morals with the greater intake of alcohol. Numair was a lot more discreet to Farant's flamboyantness and he guessed Farant' sudden fortune provided by Numair's company had him realising he had loads of money to splurge and attract bees. Or flies rather, in Numair's opinion. When Daine had grabbed his arm and swore that she would make him say she was sexy and when he did, he would be her slave for a month. Who needs stupid pigs like Farrant? Dumping the loyal faithful girlfriend the moment he no longer needed her, nor all the nights she put in to developing the company. Numair just blinked at that barrage of words and simply agreed, taking into account the strong smell of alcohol on her.

And now, here he was, taking a quiet drink in the VIP room when Daine stormed in. Rather, strode in. Wearing boots and a black trench coat. He could hardly recognise her, now that her hair was down and in sexy wavy curls, loads of mascara and eyeliner and red lips. He was about to say something before he lost the use of his voice when she took off the trench coat and revealed black sexy lingere. Looks like he was wrong when he said she was like a plank.

"SAY IT!" Daine demanded, stamping her foot. She stopped in front of him and planted a heel solidly between his legs. He winced at the nearness and proximity of her nearly unmanning him. "Say I am sexy!"

"Alright, you're sexy." Numair replied.

"damn right! and you're not!" Daine retorted, as she backed off. Her movements slow and deliberate as if she had a hard time trying to think and coordinate. She nearly stumbled when she bent down to take her trench coat.

"You're drunk," Numair said, standing up, "Here, let me-"

"No, I don't need any man to help me," Daine snapped. "I am NOT drunk. I only had a bottle of whiskey." She started to walk towards the door without her trenchcoat and Numair muffled an oath as he quickly grabbed her trenchcoat and covered her in it.

"Where are you going? You're in no fit condition to drive," Numair said.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Daine replied indignantly. And she promptly was.

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Daine groaned, her head pounded. Her eyes sprung open when she felt the unfamilar smoothness of the silk sheets below her and the fluffy pillows.

"Awake?" a deep voice asked next to her.

She rolled over to look up a very attractive man sprawled next to her. He was shirtless and Daine started to have a very bad feeling. He was leaning on his elbow looking down at her.

"Who, who are you?" she asked.

"Your slave for the month, remember? But I would prefer if you could call me Numair in public though."

Drabble: Friends with Benefits 2

2007-04-18T20:04:00.000-07:00

I'm so sleeppyyyy from studying... zzzz..... hopefully this really fast drabble will kick my brain into gear....

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Daine's face burned and Numair had never seen her quite so... cute. Her eyelashes were lowered to cover her embarassed expression, a blush decorated her cheekbones, and she gnawed on her lower lip. She peeked at him in this "oh my goodness, help me" look and he covered his hand with hers, soothingly rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He could feel her hand tensed when he did that and could tell that he was going to get quite a scolding when they went out of the restaurant.

Numair and Raoul paid the bill despite Daine's protest which was subdued by Buri's whack of, "hey, don't ruin the market for the rest of us girls. let them spoil us!". Numair entwined his hand in Daine's for three purposes - first, he liked it. second, to stop her from running away. third, to stop her from slapping or hitting him with that hand.

Sure enough, when Raoul was out of earshot with Buri, Daine hissed, "Girlfriend? You told them I was your girlfriend?"

Numair raised his eyebrow, "What did you expect me to say when they came across us eating dinner in a French restaurant and joined us? Especially when I was nibbling on your knuckles. That you are my 'friend with benefits'?"

Daine went completely red, redder than she had in the restaurant. "Well, you're misleading them." Numair jerked Daine against him, wrapped his other arm around her and squeezed, "You're such a worrywort."

"Am not," Daine mumbled against his chest, but he felt her slowly relax and lean against him. He smiled, unseen and knew he had won this round.

Drabble: friends with benefits

2007-03-28T22:39:00.000-07:00

Interesting plot idea. But please don't follow this in real life. This is a more MATURE fic, with a more frank discussion about er hum. Considering the drabble title. This shouldn't be too surprising yeah?

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"Yuck!" Daine cringed.

"What?" Numair asked, following Daine's gaze.

"This is why I don't like to sit outside in this whole al fresco thing near a park. Increasing the risk of skin cancer under the sun and all the lovey dovey yuckness," Daine frowned, and took a sip of her drink.

"Isn't it kind of sweet to see the couples holding hands and whispering sweet nothings?" Numair queried. "You are strange woman!"

"Well your sweet couple is now making out, EWW! They need a room! I don't know why we find it alright when beautiful people make-out, but normal people, complete with wombly fats and white hair. Yuck yuck yuck!" Daine scowled.

"Alright... before they started getting all physical..." Numair conceded. "But what's gotten you all riled up about the whole couple thing?"

Daine stared at Numair. "You're asking me about why I don't embrace the wonders of couplehood? You, the playboy king? You, the one who is currently in a 'friends with benefits' relationship with me." Numair went red. "And you can blush! It's amazing man. And to think I was the virgin before I met you." Daine shook her head.

Numair reached over and brushed a curl away from Daine's face. "It's hard to find such cynicism in one so young."

"Well, I'm only five years younger than you, oh ancient one," Daine chirped. "I'm just wised up to the ways of the world! Relationships are a logical, rational thing. Girl offers something, guy offers something, if they both like what each other is offering, they'll take it. Which is why, you will see that, sure some girls end up with uglier guys, but that's because the guy is superior in personality than a good looking one. It's a cost-benefit analysis. Lack of looks, personality, can be made up for in wealth and stability. It's a whole give and take sitaution. And when one party finds that it's no longer beneficial to stay, he'll leave. Which is why you always see guys leave for prettier younger things. So I really see no point in getting into a relationship. Investing so much time and effort for the guy to leave or cheat on you after some time."

"Hey..." Numair demurred.

"Ha, don't you get on the high horse to me and tell me that's not true. You who has gone for beautiful voluptous blondes all your life. Took them, enjoyed them, dumped them. Went for another. Working your way like a hard little labourer," Daine said.

Numair blushed.

Daine patted his hand. "It's alright, I won't tell anyone you're like a rabbit. If it wasn't for the fact that you were drunk when I asked you to take up this offer, you wouldn't have agreed. I must be the first brunette you've had sex with right?"

Numair went a deeper shade of red if that was possible. "But I don't sleep with other girls while I'm still with one girl."

"Yeah, you're faithful, in a weird kind of way," Daine agreed. "Which is why I picked you to be my dear friend." She started to tick off her fingers while she spoke, "One, we were not close friends so it wouldn't ruin any friendship we have. Two, I was rather comfortable with you. Three, you're oddly faithful in your own little weird way because I don't like to share. Four, I heard you were reallllllyyyy good in bed."

Numair folded his arms, "You're really open for an ex-virgin you know."

"Yeah, at the grand old age of 30, I realise it was now or never," Daine said. "Besides, if you were any other guy, I wouldn't be so open and frank. But yeah, since you're a 'friend with benefit', there's no need to impress you or have any sort of propriety. Though I wish I had video recorded your expression when you realised you had deflowered me."

Numair's eyes narrowed, "You should have told me."

"No use crying over spilt milk and I promised I would pay you back for the bedsheets," Daine chirpped.

"It's not the bedsheets that's bugging me," Numair growled.

"Yeah, well, I also must agree the first time wasn't that great," Daine nodded. "But the subsequent times was better. Don't you think? Oh come on, you must give me some sort of handicap! If I suck at it, it's all your fault for not being good enough to teach me."

Numair buried his head in his hands, "I can't believe I'm having this conversation and no, I am not commenting on the experience but the fact that you should have warned me that you were a virgin."

"Or you would run for the high hills?" Daine asked. "I have no doubt that in your weird little way, you would have refused. All the girls you have been involved in are rather, er hum, experienced. But no worries," she patted his head. "I have no expectation of you hanging around for long. I must give you credit for being here for what, five months already? It's like a record for you."

Numair looked at Daine through his fingers, his expression suddenly enigmatic. "Are you so sure I only entered into this because I was drunk?"

Daine's heart started beating faster at his intent gaze, "Err.... free sex?"

"Wrong, I-" Numair answered.

"Excuse me, here's your souffle," the waiter interupted.

"Thanks," Daine grinned. "You were saying?"

Numair sighed and grabbed a fork, "Never mind, let's just eat."

Drabble: Room Mate 3

2007-03-26T09:00:00.000-07:00

Yes, the spirit of The Jacket, BSNS and LFS hovers over me! *hover hover hover* But drabbles are just so fun and short. Hardly any thinking required. ha hahahahaaha! Normally write them in between lessons.

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I stretched and took my legs off the table as Evin put his bags of fastfood on the table. "Have you eaten lunch?" Evin asked, opening the paper bags to release the heavenly aroma of french fries. Ooohhh... fat, cholestrol and oil... my major food groups.... I leaned over to grab a couple of fries.

"No, not yet," I replied. "I'm going to head down to work at that theme eatery today. So going to grab some left overs there."

Evin raised an eyebrow, "Oh my, how on earth did you get hired there? What are you going to be dressed as? A pole?"

I snorted and whacked Evin with a pillow, "Harumph! I have no idea really. When I went in to apply, they were having cheer leader's week, and all the bosomy waitresses and short skirts. But there's other roles as well, like the team mascot, water cooler boy. I'm sure I can fit in one of those roles."

Evin shook his head, "This is going to make an interesting and excellent addition to your CV."

I whacked him with the pillow again, "Hey, they pay much higher than the average waitressing job alright. What are you going to do if you can't have a fellow room mate to help share the rent huh? Though it doesn't really seem that Numair needs the money anyway, he throws it around like nobody's business."

Evin was in the midst of biting into a burger when he stopped and stared at me. "Throwing his money around? He's been using the gold plated toilet paper again I see?"

I rolled my eyes, "No..."

"Diamond studded cutlery?" Evin offered.

"Stop it! I'm being serious," I huffed. "He doesn't do that. But I guess he's more extravagent than us normal students. He hates to keep left overs, but always buys so much food! He buys more than he needs and just dumps it on me or throws it away. The other day he wanted a new bedsheet, but it came with a comforter, so he was about to toss the comforter out when I saw him and he gave it to me."

"When.... did you see him throw away good food?" Evin asked, with this strange look in his eye.

"Well, most of the times he doesn't... as he just gives it to me after the first few times when I asked. I did see him throw away a whole box of untouched pasta in the dustbin when I refused. And the other day, he ordered me to keep the heater on at all times even when he wasn't around as he hated it when it gets cold. He was so shocked to see me all bundled up with the heater switched off, " I rolled my eyes, "I pointed out that I was trying to help everyone keep the heater bill on, especially with this cavern of an apartment. It's normal practice in every place I stay in."

Evin chewed thoughtfully, "Well.... it is true that he hates the cold... which is why his room heater is switched on twenty-four seven during winter..."

"Yeah, though it's nice of him to say that he always bears the cost of the heating bills due to his idiosyncracy," I added.

Evin raised his eyebrows.

"What?" I asked, and elbowed him.

"That is very nice," he echoed. "I shall remind him of this when it comes to paying the rent at the end of the month. Though it's strange that you see him having meals so much during this time, he normally closets up in the library."

"He does," I said. "But ever since he knew I don't like wasting food, he's been bringing his excess back home to me. Like I'm his pet dog I guess!"

I heard the door open and saw Numair walk in with a paper bag. "See," I hissed, elbowing Evin.

"Evin, Dane," Numair greeted, and tossed into my lap the paper bag.

I opened the bag to see a turkey croissant sandwitch, and a bagel with a container of cream cheese. Evin peered over my shoulder, "Hey, where's my share? Hmm?" He looked at Numair with an arched brow, "You're free to share your bounty with me! What happened to the one and a half years of staying together? Hmm hmm?"

Numair grabbed a cushion and threw it at Evin. "It's precisely that I know you for so long that I don't want to spoil you for your own good. You've been getting pundgy lately."

"Hey!" Evin protested. "Not everyone can have six pecs like you."

'Six pecs?' I thought with interest, 'Ooohhh... I wanna see... for pure academic and curious interest only, of course!'

"You can take one of them," I offered to Evin.

"Nah,' Evin said. "Not since Numair wants to give it to you. Besides, you haven't had lunch yet and I scarcely think you're going to get much stuff to pick off at the restaurant."

"Of course I will," I promptly replied. "Like if the cook makes a mistake, they normally just give it to the staff you know! And they have a policy of not letting the cooked food be left for one hour. They'll cook a new batch."

To my surprise, Numair flopped on the couch next to me and casually asked, "You're working at a restaurant?"

"Yeah," Evin responded. "And the book store and the grocers."

"No I'm not," I protested and Evin stared at me. "Not at the grocers any more since it's quite inconvenient to get there now that I live in such an upmarket area." I turned to Numair, "But no worries, this restaurant job is paying rather well." I could sense Evin was about to make a smart alec remark and I elbowed him hard. It would be dangerous if Numair ever saw me at the themed restaurant.

Drabble: Room Mate 2

2007-03-18T21:17:00.000-07:00

Numair now knows Daine as Dane. Thanks to Dolphine Dreamer and Starling Rising for telling me that Daine is also a guy's name. Do you guys mean Dane or Daine? But anyway, Daine will be spared from being called Day and all corresponding jokes that come along with such a name.

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The worst thing about pretending to be a boy is realising that... you don't have to really change much of yourself to pretend. My normal gear of jeans, t-shirts, sneakers, and cap (till my horrible haircut grows out) did everything to make me appear as those gangly boys. My modest figure was engulfed in my clothes. I needed to wear a sports bra to compress my less than generous assets or be more cautious when Numair was around, but other than that....

'Geez Daine, you should be happy that you are not thoroughly inconvenienced by the whole thing.' Looking at my room, there was really nothing much to hide really. I don't like pink, furry or cute stuff. I like books, archery, and animals. Animals as in not cute furry puppies or kittens, but animals in general - from lowly lizards to gruff bears. I don't wear jewellery, I don't even have ear holes. So all I needed to hide was my undergarments, sanitary pads and my paltry collection of skirts and dresses that were all foisted on me by well-meaning friends and relatives. Even my toiletries in the common bathroom, they were not pretty scented things. But practical bars of soap, cheap shampoo and sturdy towels bought from the Salvation Army. I winced, it is not that I like being feminine, but still, whatever sort of feminine pride I had was hurt that all the things my friends and relatives have been telling me all these years were true... I am like a boy.

I had scrutinised myself thoroughly in the mirror with a jaundiced eye, trying to see anything that would scream "looky here! girl girl!". Sadly enough, nothing. Unless I wore something more fitting, I was safe. The most girlish feature I had were probably my eyes. My one redeeming feature. Blue-grey, big, lined with thick extravagant eyelashes. I had a stubborn chin that counteracted this and briefly contemplated cutting my eyelashes. But decided that since Numair was scarcely going to look deeply into my eyes, it was not worth the hassle. Though I'm not too sure how long it normally takes for eyelashes to grow out though.

It helped that Numair had his own bathroom, since it was the master bedroom. Evin and I shared a bathroom, which was fine, since he knew better than to walk in on me and I locked the door. The only irritating habit he had was leaving the toilet seat up, but knew it would appear queer to Numair if I ever railed to Evin about that.

Living with Numair was surprisingly easy. Evin told me that golden rule number one was to never touch Numair's readings or anything remotely academic in the house. Numair was messy, but very organised. I don't know the distinction, but apparently Numair knew where everything in the house was. So no touching of papers. Fair enough. Evin told me how Numair nearly strangled Jonathan when he had threw away some piece of important research Numair was reading which was wedged between some magazines.

I think if girls knew about me living with Numair, they would die of jealousy. But please... this is sooo not like those soap operas or cheesy romance novels... I am not a drop dead voluptuous beauty in disguise or did chemistry fly between us. Nah. Numair was a rather private, polite person and I didn't seem much of him. He was preparing his thesis and most of the time was spent in the libraries or in his room. I think. I think because I don't ask him where he goes or what time he'll be back and neither did he concern himself of my affairs. Evin told me that Numair had to submit his report of his thesis, so was exceptionally anti-social during this period and told me not to worry if Numair was not too friendly. It was not that he was mean, he was just preoccupied.

With that thought, I made my way towards the table with my dinner - a bowl of cereal- when I suddenly stumbled over something. "CRAP!" I cursed as the milk sloshed over the bowl. I looked down and nearly died when I realised I had stumbled and spilt milk over a pile of papers. "Oh no, please, please let it be Evin's dirty magazines," I groaned and immediately grabbed tissue to dab at the papers. To my horror, it was about the genetics, the familiar helical shapes of the DNA and RNA stared at me. Ah crap, why did I have to eat colourful fruit loops and not just plain cornflakes!?! Colour was smeared on the papers and I fought to keep myself calm. "It's alright Daine, just try to find where he photocopied the research and make another copy, he'll never realise the difference." I glanced at the clock, it was seven thirty. "Crap! The library closes at ten, I better run to find where this extract is from!" I carefully looked at the extract and tried to find some clue as to what book it is from, on the right-hand corner, Numair had scrawled "Vaunter, 1943, 1st ed". I grabbed my wallet and shoes and ran out into the darkness.

I think my physical education teacher would have been so proud of me, I sprinted all the way to the university's library, only to find that the first ed was only available at the Medicine library at the other end of campus, which led me sprinting to there as well. The campus bus was too infrequent at night and I couldn't risk not photocopying the materials in time. What happened if Numair needed the materials for his report? I just trampled the golden rule and didn't want to get kicked out. Money was tight as it is and I did not fancy having to forfeit any rental deposit. I literally begged the librarian to let me finish photocopying the extract before she closed the library. I definitely owed her chocolate brownies, as I had the unhappy misfortune of spilling over quite a considerable extract of Vaunter and Numair had taken them from different parts of the book. It was nearly midnight when I wheezed my way back into the apartment to see Numair frowning and looking at my bowl of cereal that I had left on the table.

Ah crap. He looked up at me when I made a panting entrance. "Dane," Numair said. "Are you alright? You look like you're going to hyperventilate."

My legs trembled as I forced myself to stumble forward. "I, I'm so sorry Numair. Don't kill me. Please. I'm small. Little. I don't know any martial arts. I, I Photostatted it. It's pristine and new." My fingers trembled as I had held out the papers to him. I didn't dare look at him as he moved closer. 'Don't cry Daine,' I thought, but emotion just welled up in me. I blinked rapidly, my hands were literally shaking, half from cold and fear.

Numair took the papers from me, tugging it gently away from my trembling fingers. I could hear him flipping through the papers. "What happened?" he asked neutrally.

"I, I I was going to eat my dinner and, stumbled and the milk just spilt. It was an accident honest! I tried to photocopy it as soon as possible. Really! Really! I ran to the central library and found it wasn't there, then ran to the medicine library because the bus wasn't coming till later. Then ran around the library searching for it, to find it was on the loan trolley and I ran back.... Sorry..." I stammered. My stomach growled embarrassingly.

I blinked rapidly and tried to peak at Numair who was looking at me with this weird expression on his face. When he saw my eyes, he looked alarmed and he reached over and ruffled my hair. "It is alright Dane. I was looking for the research, but you've Photostatted it. No harm done. I don't know what Evin told you about me, but you don't need to feel... so overwrought."

'Oh crap. He realised I was about to cry and for a guy to cry it's like something major or he's a sissy!' I thought in alarm. "Uh no, I'm just cold, that's all, sinus and all. I was out since seven thirty."

"Seven thirty? In this?" He gestured towards what I was wearing, which was just t-shirt and Bermudas. He touched my arm and found it ice cold. "Daine! You're freezing!" I blushed and my stomach growled demandingly again. "Come on, you better eat dinner..." then paused as he glanced thoughtfully at my bowl. "and you really shouldn't be eating cereal for dinner."

"It's ok," I said. "I'm not hungry." My stomach growled in denial and I blushed. "I, I only like cereal and that was my last bowl, so I'll just wait till tomorrow," I prevaricated.

"It is nearly one in the morning," Numair said glancing at the majestic grandfather clock. "We can call in pizza."

"Uh no," I said, "Er... I don't like pizza."

"Or we can go somewhere else to eat," Numair responded. "I feel a tad hungry myself."

"It's ok really," I mumbled.

"You're that scared of me?" he asked.

"Well..." I went a deeper shade of red, if that was possible. "My budget is rather tight at the moment. Since we just had to pay our school fees. But don't worry about rent! My pay check from my job at the bookstore is coming soon, so I'll be able to pay."

"I can..." Numair was about to offer.

"Oh no, it's ok really," I said. "I am used to it. I'm from sturdy stock! I should lose weight anyway, I'm getting fat." I quickly escaped into my room as I heard Numair open the fridge. Numair had a massive fridge, and Evin had pointed out which racks on the fridge belonged to me, his and Numair's. I know mine was embarrassingly empty except for a carton of milk, so was my space in the food cupboard.

I crawled into the room cocoon of my blankets. I couldn't really afford a comforter or thick blankets, so I just combined four of the threadbare blankets I got from the Cancer Charity shop to cover myself at night. It was warm, and for people who don't know this, what really keeps a person warm under the blanket is the trapped air that acts as insulation against the cold. There's nothing like being on a tight budget for the growth of innovation.

I was feeling warm again when I heard Numair knocking at my door. I crawled out of bed and opened it, “Yeah?”

He grabbed my arm and tugged me to the dinning room. He frowned at how easily his big hands encircled my arm, “You’re too skinny for a boy you know. You should eat more.”

“Yeah, like a stuffed turkey for Christmas dinner,” I retorted.

My nose was assaulted by the strong aroma of food and struggled not to drool, then not gape at the spread on the table – pizzas, soup, garlic bread, chicken wings, pasta.

“Are you having a party?” I asked.

“No, just over-ordered in the fit of hunger,” he said. “I don’t really like to eat alone, come join me.”

My stomach growled in agreement. “I can’t,” I said. “It’s alright really.”

“I really can’t finish the food by myself and it’s such a waste to throw it away,” he said.

“You can keep it for later you know,” I replied.

He looked mildly horrified, “Keep it overnight? Nonsense, you might as well get freshly cooked food. Do you know how much germs accumulate in leftover food?”

I eyed him and refrained from reminding him of all the starving orphans in Africa.

“Or do you hate my company that much?” he asked.

“Er no,” I said and he pushed me down on the couch.

“Then eat,” he said and shoved a slice of pizza at me. So I did.

Although we had hearty appetites (it was so long since I last ate pizza!), we couldn’t finish off the copious amount of food. True to his word, he took the garbage bin and was about to shovel the leftovers when he caught my considering look. “Do you want it? It will save me on disposal costs and the effort to clean up.”

“Alright, I’ll get the Tupperware,” I said and turned to the kitchen. And missed seeing a triumphant grin on his face.

What are drabbles? How about one-shots?

2007-03-04T09:36:00.000-08:00

Observant readers would have noticed that I have posted drabbles here recently. So, what are drabbles? They seem like one-shots or incomplete fics. Well, sort of both in a way...

Well, one-shots are one-shots. They are fics which I have fleshed out and wrote in complete detail and meant to stand as it is.

Drabbles are shorter, experimental and tend to contain story ideas that I have in my head that are not fully fleshed out. Just snapshots or snippets, to show the premise or plot idea I have contemplated. Perhaps one day in the distant future, I may decide to write more and flesh out the drabble into a full length fic. But, most of the time, I just write it out to get the idea out of my head. So some drabbles may be good, some may be bad. (Like Broken Glass, it seems like a sad depressed fic, but in reality, I do intend it to be happy ending, but with some angst. However, as I said, it's just a drabble, a snapshot of the fic.)

If you read drabbles, just be warned that I may not turn them into full length fics. Feedback is of course appreciated, and with sufficient muse, I may do so in the future. Currently have plate full with Jacket, BSNS, LFS. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy reading the drabbles!

Drabble: Room mate

2007-03-04T08:17:00.000-08:00

Been busy with school work, but anyway, for all of you to chew on is this drabble I had wrote some time ago. Decided I might as well post the drabbles here as well for all of you to chew on.

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"Thanks Evin for setting this up, I really need to find some cheap accomodation." I said, settling in the uncomfortable plastic bench next to Evin in the fast food restaurant.

"Yeah well," he lightly punched my arm, "That's what friends are for. Anyway, damn the university for being so straight-laced. Not allowing upper years to stay in hostels unless we get sufficient participation points or get special permission from the hostel heads. Which in other words mean we have time to go take part in all the rah rah hall activities or are on of the popular or drop dead gorgeous people on campus for the hall heads to say yes." He shook his head. "Stupid university never considers about the students who have to work AND study. No time for all this nonsense."

I smiled at Evin's diatribe. It was an often felt feeling that ran through the students that had to work to put themselves through university. Like me. I sighed, "Well, the university already views it as a great and wonderful thing that they accept us on an installment plan basis. I mean, what is the point of giving us loans when we have to cough out even MORE money for our university as compared to people who can afford it? Argh, like they haven't heard the concept of subsidy!"

"Yeah man," Evin groaned. "What irritates the heck out of me is that they have scholarships and bursaries, but only for 'foreign talent'. The more foreign the better. Locals are not allowed to apply. Stingy idiots. Who the heck do they think is going to hang around to defend this country when war comes or hard times are upon us? Us man..."

"So tell me more about our landlord," I broke in, before he went into his normal three hour rant about maligned locals.

"Wellll..." Evin said, scratching his head. "There's nothing much to tell. He's from a well-off family, trust fund and all, some properties left by his grandmother. He wanted to study science, his family wanted him to study business to join the family business. He didn't want, so he broke off and lived in this penthouse left by his grandmother. He's looking for room mates to help give him some pocket money. It's a REALLY good deal. When I say penthouse, I mean it, we're in the best neighbourhood in town, great location. Lots of rooms. Main rule of the house is to clean up after yourself and keep to yourself. The place is big enough for us to stay out of each other's hair. And oh yeah, observe the signs on the door. We have these door signs, where you flip to show whether you don't want anyone disturbing you. You know, lady action and all..."

I shuddered. I so did not want to know that.

"I've only been staying here for a short while ever since Jonathan pulled me in. Oh, Jonathan is the guy you are replacing. He's going overseas for masters, so we're finding a new roommate to replace him. Which is where you come in."

"Am I the first applicant?" I asked, curiously. "The price is comparable to hostel prices, yet we're staying in some fancy penthouse."

"Nah, you're not," Evin said. "Jonathan tried to introduce some candidates that has to go through Numair's inspections, but all failed."

I gulped. "Oh dear."

"Yeah, well, just try your best," Evin reassured, whacking me on the shoulder.

"Owww," I winced. "I know I am not the most girly of girls, but can't you restrain your strength a bit?"

Evin looked sheepish. "I forget Daine, you look and behave so much like a boy." I didn't take offence as it was quite an often muttered comment about me. Oh come on, surely you can't blame me for liking baggy t-shirts and jeans? They were so comfortable. And I can't help it if mother nature didn't give me a voluptous figure, but a slender one. A euphemistic word for it is athletic build. Which I sort of appreciate with my hobby of archery. Big chests get in the way of pulling an arrow properly. I was also rather tall for a girl, not a petite five foot two, rather, five foot five, though my slender build gave the impression that I was taller than that. Money and practicality has not led me to dabble in the feminine flipperies and adornments. What family I had was gone and I had to work to feed and clothe myself. Which meant salvation army and all the charitable second-hand shops for all my shopping needs.

"But you make a pretty boy," Evin quippped, trying to cover up for his slight.

"It's alright Evin, I'm used to it," I said and smiled. After all, he was going to introduce me to some cheap rent, I can afford to be magnaminous.

"Yeah Daine, it doesn't help that you talk to me like you're a guy," Evin said, then his attention was caught. "Ooohh, check out that babe."

I raised an eyebrow and turned to look at the other side of the room. "You find that impressive, how about the leggy blonde at the side. She has such droolworthy legs."

"Ha, I'm more of a chest man... hey Numair!" Evin greeted, noticing the lanky man that had slide into the bench in front of us while we were busy gwaking at girls.

"Hello," Numair greeted. I tried not to drool. Very bad Daine. Drooling is very bad. And oh so not cool. Defintely not professional and room mate like as well.

"You're the landlord?" I squeaked.

Numair raised an eyebrow, "Got a problem?"

"You're not old. You're young. No creaky joints or grey hair," I muttered.

"Nor the beer belly," Numair helpfully added. Oh no... defintely not that, I could tell even under his shirt that he had a droolworthy body....

"So, shall we eat?" Numair asked. "I'll go order." I gave Numair my order and gave him the requisite cash. Later, when I saw him reach the counter and receive all of our food. I went up to give him a hand.

"Thanks," Numair grunted.

"No problem," I said cheerfully. "It's the least I can do unlike Mr Chest-man over there who's busy goggling at the waitress."

Numair smiled and I tried not to stumble as my heart skipped a beat. "Move over," I kicked Evin's leg gently. He obligingly moved over the bench to make space for me.

We conversed while we ate. Turned out Numair was taking a doctorate while I was specialising in veternary science. Evin was in engineering. I was able to converse with Numair rather intelligently (I thought) on a variety of topics. It helped that I had worked part time at a bookshop that specialised in bringing in all sort of academic texts, so I had browsed through some materials while I was waiting for customers. I scolded Evin when he was about to pour ketchup on the tray and handed him a napkin to put it on. "Inconsiderate buffoon," I had jibbed and Evin took it in good stride. We talked about soccer and soon the lunch was over. If Numair noticed that I didn't look at him in the eye but caried my eye contact on him, the food, Evin, he made no comment. I was certainly unused to being in such close proximity to such a delectable male specimen, and knew I may blush or stutter if I stared at him too long.

"Why are you wearing a cap?" Numair inquired curiously. "Is it a hip thing? Some punk rock thing?"

I blushed, "No, it's a bad haircut thing." I took off my cap. Evin laughed, "Oh my gosh Daine! Did you cut your own hair again? What did you use? Shears?"

I went into a deeper shade of red. "Ha, as if you're a hair stylist yourself!" My hair was rather short and it was unfortunate that I had wavy hair, so that made me had a sort of Einstein look. "I was just so bothered by it during the exams, so I just hacked it shorter." I plunked my cap on again and elbowed Evin.

"Do you always cut your hair yourself?" Numair quered. I had not dared look at him during my exchange with Evin, but looked at my lap. Which was why I caught a movement of Evin's leg. Did he just kick Numair?

"Uh yeah," I tried to smile and laugh it off. "How many ways can you cut your hair anyways? Don't want to be robbed blind by barbers." In other words, I'm tight of cash and hair styles is at the bottom of the list of priorities.

I sneaked a look back up at Numair who looked a bit embarassed. "So Numair, what do you think of Daine?" Evin asked, breaking up the awkward silence.

Numair leaned his chin on his hand, "Hmm..." I tried not to squirm. "Dane,"

"Yup?" I responded.

"Are you gay?"

"WHAT? NO MAN!" I exploded. "Are you saying I look like a-"

"Calm down," Numair interrupted, patting a hand on my shoulder. "I wasn't implying that you look like a faggot." Faggot? I thought he was going to say butch? "I just wanted to check. I don't want to have a gay in my home. Simply because I don't want any potentially awkward situations or tensions. Like why I don't want a girl as a room mate as well. Don't want her to accidentally have romantic inclinations towards me, or Evin here when we don't reciprocate. It will be really crap to not only dump cold water on that person, but kick that person out because we can't stand the weirdness of it all." I nodded, then halted. Wait a second... Did he think I was a...

"I think you'll do," Numair said, nodding. "You're clean for a guy, you handle Evin well, helpful, friendly and able to converse intelligently other than the 'let's talk about hot chicks and sports only'."

"How do you know that? The whole clean thing?" I asked dazzedly.

"You passed the meal test," he replied. "You eat neatly, you clean up after yourself. You automatically offered to pay without me asking and helped without question."

"I see..." I said.

"You have no idea how hard it is to find a university guy that is not messy, dirty and foul mouthed," Numair explained. "Evin is already considered quite well-behaved already, even though he tends to be a bit careless with his belongings sometimes. I don't want a roommate bringing home company everynight, or partying and getting drunk all over the floor." he paused. "Of course if you do want to date, that's fine, I'm just saying I don't want to wake up every morning to see a different female face at the table."

I could do nothing but just stare blankly at him and nod. Numair extended his hand, "So, do we have ourselves a new roommate?"

Evin elbowed me, he mumbled under his breath, "Think of the rent.... and you've no place to go at the moment."

I shook Numair's hand. "Good grip," Numair complimented. "You must work out, your hands are calloused."

"Yeah well, I take up archery," I said weakly and smiled. Evin just smiled at me reassuringly. Oh. my. gosh. Oh great. I am so going to kill Evin after this. I know I sort of look and behave like a guy, but to carry this pretense for the sake of cheaper board? Oh Daine, you have sunk to an all-time low.

The Jacket - Daine & Miri's dress

2007-02-11T07:41:00.000-08:00

>>>>>MIRI...

I knew I wanted Miri to have a rather unconventional and perky kind of colour for her dress... I thought she might look good in orange, so here's the inspiration... ta da...

A close contender was the dress below.. but then I was thinking, it was a winter ball, so wanted her to be more eleagant... hence, decided to stick with the dress above.

>>>>DAINE...

Wanted a rather "WOW" dress, to make people sit and up stare. Tasteful was the key word and classy as well since it was a winter ball. I thought a plunging neckline would be most appropriate, not those kinds that shows everything on display, but the narrow cut that shows a hint. Either that or a backless gown. But because I wanted someone to look at her and go wow, and not wait till she turns around, I decided on the plunging neckline option. There is no picture I was inspired by, so you'll have to exercise a bit of imagination. The cut is something like the pictures you see below, but I wanted the colour to be blue for her to stand out, rather than black or a sombre colour. Green was a tempting second, but yeah, blue is always a favourite colour ever since Numair commented in Emperor Mage that blue brought out the matching shades in her eyes. ^___~

coincidentally, I realised a celebrity had worn a gown similar to what I had envisaged, except without so much strappings and a slightly different cut.

A rather close contender was the dress below, because I would think that Daine would have great legs. However, again, since it was a winter ball (emphasis on the word ball and winter), I decided it would be more appropriate for her to wear the above and be more covered up. I do like the colour though!! This dress will probably appear in another fic.

The Jacket Snippet 6

2007-02-10T10:23:00.000-08:00

I know... I'm supposed to finish this dratted fic by now!! But unfortunately school work has made it difficult to sit down and write for long periods of time. Anywayz, here's the next installment of The Jacket for all of you to chew on in the mean time. We're reaching the end of this fic soon!!

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Daine bit her lip, nervously shaking her leg in the car. Miri happily sang along to the car radio, she turned to Daine, “Relax girl, you look hot! I just don’t know why you insist on wearing that ugly jacket to the Winter Ball.”

Daine folded her arms. “If I wasn’t wearing something so airy, I wouldn’t feel cold. Besides I’m leaving the jacket at the closet room.” ‘Where HE will take the jacket and wear it. Which is how I’m supposed to recognize him,’ she thought. She nervously fingered her gown, wondering how he would react when he saw her. She must admit that she definitely looked her best, but was unsure if she could carry off the look. Her hair was pinned back, with her curls tumbling down her back, a few loose tendrils softened her face. The make-up was dramatic, with a dark tone to it. Miri had really piled on the dark eyeshadow, mascara that supposedly made her eyes look sultry. Daine had first blinked at her reflection, thinking that her eyes looked really big on her face. She wore a blue gown that brought out the matching shades in her eyes. It had a plunging neckline and back. There was a crisscross of fabric below her bust to accentuate her figure and the flowing skirt made her feel like twirling around and around. Miri swore that she looked incredibly good, which was a distinct change from her usual T-shirt and jeans she wore around campus.

Daine glanced at Miri, she was wearing a bright orange halter dress with an asymmetrical hem. Somehow, the colour suited Miri, she had a nice peachy glow to her complexion and was reflective of her cheerful personality. Evin Larse, Miri’s recently acquired boyfriend was waiting for her at the Winter Ball. No doubt because he was told that “duty called”. Miri had pounced on Daine in the afternoon to whisk her into the dress and do the relevant make-up. This was probably to stop Daine from chickening half way and not go to the Winter Ball. Daine sighed, she had finally agreed to wear this dress because it was to show Perrin what he was missing. But, if she was honest to herself, she wore it for HIM. The voice. She wondered how he looked like and whether he would like her… Well, she did feel this bit of connection with him… ah heck, yes, she liked him. She really did. But she wondered if he would like her. He is a guy after all, and guys tend to place emphasis on looks. Like Perrin had amply shown. Though a small voice at the back of her mind told her she was being a bit too cynical about the male species.

They reached the University hall. Being built in the 1800s, Culfield University had a unique architecture. It was a rather grand hall which needed no or little decorations. The carving along the walls and soaring pillars were magnificent. The ceiling was a laborious and wondrous piece of art undertaken by the artists of those times, commissioned by Lord Culfield (the founder of the University). There were huge impressive paintings that originally hung on the walls. Impressive not only because of their size (life size portrait was really a life size portrait back then), but also because of their intricate frames. However, to preserve the lifespan of the paintings and its frames, the university wisely kept them away in a special storage room and only displayed them on special occasions. This was NOT one of them. In fact, antique paintings, university students and alcohol were definitely not a good mix. The grand design of the hall made decorating easy or difficult. It was not a place to use cheap crepe paper or balloons, which would look incredibly tacky in such surroundings. Instead, committees either left the hall as it is, or threw in a healthy budget to perhaps get chiffon and satin (like last year’s Winter Ball) to drape around the room at strategic places. Daine rather they left the hall alone and use the money for better food. Somehow, balls notoriously had sub-standard food.

Unlike other students, Miri drove Daine and herself to the ball in her sturdy Ford car. The more affluent students (and the more attention seeking ones as well) hired limousines or expensive cars with chauffeurs. Daine didn’t begrudge them the need to splurge on the event, but it was an annual affair and wasn’t the grandest ball of the lot that was thrown. Nonetheless, it would have been lovely to be driven to the doorstep, as driving by one’s self means that one has to walk to the hall after parking. Which can be pretty daunting when it is winter and gowns were not meant for cold temperatures. Nonetheless, her oversized jacket kept her suitably warm and she strolled to the hall with a bouncy Miri at her side.

They entered through the grand doors. Naturally, it did not immediately open to the hall. Contrary to what most people thought for olden buildings, there is normally a chamber or two, perhaps even a reception room before the actual hall. This is to allow the hall to be more able to retain heat and insulated against the cold from outside. Perhaps it was movies showing heroines, dramatically flinging open the door to a ballroom and everyone gasping at her beauty. Well, it was only sensible for guests to put down their outerwear before they went into the actual hall itself. Struggling out of outer wear was a rather unglamorous thing to do if it was in full view of everyone.

For the Culfield University Hall, the doors opened to a reception area that was filled with people taking photos or a breather from the music inside the hall. Daine wondered briefly, if HE was here, among the throngs of people. She heard some giggling and tried not to blush to see Camilia and her friends smirked at her. Camilia was a good friend of the girl that Perrin had a fling with. This meant that Perrin and the girl are probably not too far away.

“Whose poor guy’s jacket did she steal?” Camilia remarked, before her henchlings burst into peals of twinkling laughter.

“Aw ignore them,” Miri said. “Those witches are just jealous. And will be even more so when you ditch that jacket.”

Daine clutched the lapels of the jacket, ready to take it off and took in a breath. ‘Alright Daine, this is it. You are ultra fabulous. Good body. Nothing to be ashamed of. Pride. Yes pride is good. You may not be the most top heavy woman around, but you sure are toned.’

“Stop thinking about it,” Miri muttered. Miri yanked off the jacket and handed it to the attendant.

She tried to look confident when she turned to see a shocked Perrin. A delicious thrill of satisfaction ran through her although she fought to stop looking down to make sure all her assets were covered. They should be, she had double-taped the dress down to really make sure no accidents happened. Well, she did look good in the dress. She strolled towards the hall with Miri before Miri was accosted by Evin. Damn! So much for a spiffy exit! Now she had to practice looking like she was involved in their conversation, although it was pretty obvious they were cooing over how good each other looked. The words “third wheel!” was screaming in her mind as she absent mindedly scanned the room. Suddenly, her blue-grey eyes were caught by dark eyes.

Numair Salmalin was leaning casually against the wall. She knew he had also looked a bit shocked when he saw her since he happened to be somewhat behind Perrin and was in her line of vision. She attributed it to her suddenly showing, oh wow, look at me, I got a figure, see see. He looked absolutely delicious in the formal clothes he was wearing. She knew that she really shouldn’t be staring at him and felt mild curiosity at not seeing Varice near him. Varice tended to be clingy as a vine when she was around Numair. He cocked up an eyebrow, raising his cocktail glass. As if silently making a toast at her for her entrance.

‘Oh, the hell with it. You only live once!’ She winked back at him and gave a slight smile before turning her gaze back to Miri and Evin. She and Evin were towed unmercilessly by Miri into the hall. They signed into the book and found that they were surprisingly given a good table. Normally, students were encouraged to form tables of ten when they bought the tickets to the Winter Ball. Students who did not form groups were then grouped and placed at the Organising Committee’s discretion. Since these students tended to be the less socially popular, (hence, the inability to form groups of ten) they were generally placed in rather awkwardly placed tables.

“We must be really moving up in the social world,” Evin remarked. “I wonder who are the other poor chaps who were foisted to sit with us.”

“Hmm…” Miri murmured. “Maybe one of us must be getting some award, which explains why we’re in such good seating and near the stage.”

Daine felt a cold shiver down her spine and started to rise from her seat, “Do you really think so? That sounds a bit ominous since we-“

“Daine!” Onua called, plunking down next to Daine, pushing down Daine on her seat with her hand. “I’m so glad you are sitting at my table!”

“Uh hi Onua,” Daine smiled. Onua was Daine’s senior in her hall. Though they were just acquaintances, Daine warmed up to Onua immediately as Onua was a naturally friendly individual who just clicked with most people.

“Heya Onua!” Evin greeted. “I’m surprised you are with us actually, would have thought that you would be with your usual clique.” He gestured with his head to the prominent table where the most popular seniors sat – Buri, Raoul, Jonathan, Thayet, etc.

“Nah,” Onua smiled. “I’m coming here solo this year, so wouldn’t want to be at that couple-dom table. Especially since Buri got attached to Raoul recently, I fear I am the only single person left in my clique!”

“Oooohh,” Miri said. “That would imply that Numair would be similarly taken. I wonder who is the lucky girl? I heard he has been drowning in offers from the top firms even before he graduates. This has spurred on the attempts of our female population to hook this soon-to-be-filthy-rich bachelor.” Miri glanced around, “Our favourite contender Varice is seated at another table from your clique…”

“He’s not taken,” Onua said, looking at Daine directly who had been watching amiably to the conversation between Miri and Onua.

“Hmm?” Daine responded. “Good for him.”

“Woman, don’t you care? The university’s most eligible man is about to be taken away!” Miri scolded.

Daine looked at Miri and laughed, “Why should I? We’re in completely different circles. I don’t even know the guy. It’s like hearing Brad Pitt getting together with Angelina Jolie. Good for them, but I don’t really care.”

“Hmm…” Onua hummed. “Well, how did your semester go? Anything memorable?”

There was awkward silence at the table and Evin and Miri quickly stumbled to cover up the silence. Daine had no doubt that they had all thought of the infamous Yella Deli incident. She sighed and cast her eye around the ballroom. ‘Where is he?’ she thought. ‘I hope he had not changed his mind!’

churn your own drabble fun fun

2007-02-05T20:40:00.000-08:00

For those who wants to churn out their own drabble, check out http://prillalar.com/drabbles/

Marvellous fun, a great deal easier than writing your own... hahahahahahha...

Drabble: Broken Glass

2007-02-05T07:20:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the slow updates, now flooded with school work. Anyway, this drabble was written to take a brief break. Yeah, this whole concept was floating around in my mind for some time. Pretty cliche I guess! But I haven't seen it in a D/N context yet, though I may be wrong (since I haven't been reading TP fanfic for a looonnggg time). I would love to one day rewrite it to a full length fic one day. But anywayz, enjoy. Some angst ahead!

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I jauntily strolled along the pavement out of school, resisting the urge to snort in laughter at the kids crowded onto the covered walkway. Don't ask me why, but everyone seemed to be afraid of the sun. Like vampires, lurking around in the coolness of the shade. While this open path leading out of school was all mine. Although I was sort of socially accepted, I rather not push my luck by appearing to be laughing at the more popular kids. My acceptance in the mad senior high school hierarchy was in no way due to knock-out looks, er, knock-out looks or knock-out looks. Rather, it was because I was Numair Salmalin's childhood friend.

Numair Salmalin, the man of the school, Mr Popular who was well-liked by both the social greats and not so greats. Because he was genuinely nice. I should know that. After all, I was rather seen as an eccentric athletic nerd. (Though I was on the school's archery team, I was not considered as the elite athletes due to the lack of good looks and playing what people thought was a rather less than glorious sports as compared to football) Hardly anyone in his social position would normally spare more than a glance at me, but he treated me warmly as usual. Felt absolutely no embarrassment in openly calling out to me, talking to me or teasing me. He just really didn't give a damn what people thought.

We were neighbours and played with each other since young. I wouldn't say we were best friends from the cradle as I was adopted by my current foster parents when I was ten years old. I first idolised him as a knight in shining armour when he rescued me from the tauntings in the playground. Idolisation then grew into like which deepened into love. ARGH! Yes, I l-o-v-e-d him, the way a woman loved a man. He knew me better than anyone else did and liked me for it despite all my flaws, my obdurate nature. Yet, he saw me only as a friend, NOT a girlfriend, but a friend. I guess I could heap the blame on my foster parents as they had longed for a son and allowed me to run around dressed messily in jumpers and t-shirts. My hair was cut by my foster mom and I had freckles, not like the pure white swans that graced our school. When I hit fifteen and felt the first stirrings of love, I knew I wanted to be a girl. It was... embarrassing to say the least when my mom dressed me for my first prom. It was most unfortunate that her style was as dated as the sixties and I would have burned all my prom photos if not for the fact that Numair had gallantly volunteered to be my date when it was my apparent to my parents that I was going solo and dropped liberal hints to Numair. Ever since then, I dared not venture into the "frilly" land again. I dressed casually in t-shirts and jeans. Though I left my hair long, but kept it tamed under a cap or in a ponytail, because Numair preferred girls with long hair. Ha. Like he'll EVER look at you Daine. You'll be a tomboy forever in his eyes. His childhood friend. Nothing else.

Still... I just hoped. Hoped and hoped and hoped. That one day he will get hit by a falling star and hey presto! Ah well...

I knew I had a special place in his heart, I think. I would drop into his house very often since young, his mother would stuff me with her delicious home-cooked food. When it rained, I loved to curl up on his bed under his blanket. It smelled of him. He has never brought a girl home before. Though I knew through my observations that he had dated... extensively and casually. Oh how I burned with envy and hurt! I kept reminding myself that it didn't matter that I wasn't the first girl he dated, what matters is that I'm his LAST.

Until the day Varice waltzed into his life. It was the first time my position in his life felt threatened. She was... simply anti-me... everything that I was not... a total opposite... which made it worse. If she was something similar to me, I could improve or develop on it... but that she was completely different? It meant that if that was Numair's preferred kind of girl, I simply stood no chance. I don't know how many times I wished that Varice would be a mean, shallow or gossipy creature. Instead, she was perfect. Perfect looks, perfect figure, perfect character, just perfect. She was an angel where I would have acted the devil. With infinite patience and kindness. Like... the kind of girl, you expect to go into a guy's life and really change his life, make him believe in the good of mankind. See the pretty flowers and butterflies around us that nature has given us… Well I… I admit it. I’m not an angel. If someone was rude, she would return the gesture with kindness, no doubt making the person melt with guilt and happiness. While I? I probably would slap the hell out of the person and scold him back. Aggressive. Who me? I guess when it matters. She was always happy, always cheerful. While nobody should speak to me before lunch break if they wanted to keep their bodily parts intact (I hated mornings). So much for appreciating everyone for their own unique individuality. Normally one would think, hey, if that person looks better than me, I can beat the person in some other area. HA! Not for Varice, she was just flat out better than me.

My grim thoughts occupied me as I bumped into a body in my room. “Harrumph!”

Big gentle hands reached out to steady me. “Careful there,” Numair said.

I could feel myself blushing and went for the offensive, “What are you doing here?”

He quirked his eyebrow, that never failed to send my heart pounding. “Replacing your mirror.”

“My mirror?” I said. “How did you?”

“The last time I came into your room, I noticed it was broken. Like something smashed into it. Must be your usual clumsy antics,” Numair teased.

“Yeah well,” I replied. “You didn’t have to replace it, it’s not like I would look in the mirror anyway.”

“Yeah,” he teased, “wouldn’t want the mirror to crack would you? I guess also that you don’t really look in the mirror when you dress up. Just grab and go.”

“Harrumph!” I retorted, trying to hide the slight hurt at the jab of my looks. Why was I being so sensitive? It was true. I wasn’t exactly a raving beauty. At least not by any of the girls he mixed around with. “Trying to insult my looks! Why you-” I tackled him and tickled him mercilessly.

He retaliated in kind and we started wrestling on the bed. He could have ended it easily with his far superior strength and weight, but he was careful not to hurt me and played along. Finally, we ended up tangled in each other, my cap knocked off my head. I was smiling into his eyes, as I straddled him, “I caught you!”

He grinned back, his face so close to me then, “So you did.” He pushed himself up from the bed, his face getting closer and closer to mine. Oh my gosh! Was he going to kiss me! My first kiss! I almost closed my eyes in anticipation when he gently shoved me in the shoulder with his fist.

“What?!” I yelped rudely in retaliation, trying to cover my beating heart. Silly Daine! Control yourself.

“I thought I’ll ask you for a favour,” Numair said, “in return for the spanking new mirror.”

“Hah,” I huffed. “I knew there had to be strings attached.”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I could have done it by myself,” Numair said seriously. He looked quiet and serious. “You know you’re the only one I would go to if I needed help.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words, “What is it?”

“Valentine’s Day is coming soon,” Numair said.

I blinked, “Yeah?” Oh my gosh, was he going to ask me to the Valentine’s Day ball?

He took my hands in his and squeezed, “I really need your help. Could you come with me to pick out Varice’s Valentine Day’s gift?”

My heart gave a painful wrench and I blinked rapidly.

“Daine?” Numair asked, noticing a change in my expression.

I took a breath, and smacked him on his arm, “You worried me for a moment, I thought you were going to ask me to donate you my kidney!”

“Rubbish!’ Numair replied, he gently grasped me by my waist and lifted me off him as he scooted off the bed. “Are you free to go today? I want to beat the crowds before the season kicks in.”

I couldn’t even force myself to smile to reassure him. So I went for the usual beleaguered friend approach, I shook my head and looked up at the ceiling, “Oh what am I going to do with you?”

“Thanks Daine,” he ruffled the top of my head. “You’re the best friend a guy could ever have.”

“Yeah well, let me change first and leave a message for my folks,” I said, my back towards him. I couldn’t let him see how much it hurt me that he saw me only as a friend.

“I’ll wait downstairs,” he said and walked out of the room. He closed the door behind him and I heaved a trembling breath.

“Get a grip Daine, get a grip,” I said. I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked soft, damp and so… female… “You know that if he knew what you felt, he would run. Far and wide. Things would never be the same again. I imagine he would laugh it off if I ever told him.” I closed my eyes. He was serious about Varice. This would be the FIRST time he had ever bought anybody a Valentine ’s Day gift. He always laughed it off as a commercial gimmick and was often the recipient of a flood of Valentine’s Day presents.

I opened my eyes and tears rolled down my cheeks. “Stop it Daine,” I hissed. “Stop looking so pathetic!” I clenched my fist and hit my reflection. The mirror cracked. “You know he is not yours… he never was…”

The Jacket Snippet 5

2007-01-21T06:50:00.000-08:00

Hi all! Thank you all for your support! Anyway, here's the next snippet of The Jacket. Yes, the ball is FINALLY going to be after this snippet, which I'm currently working on.

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“Hello?”

“Oh hi, you must be Daine’s new boyfriend?”

“And you are?” the voice asked warily at the saccharine voice.

“Oh, I’m Camilia, you must have heard of me,” Camilia drawled in reply. “Voted the hottest freshman in my year.”

“Where is Daine?”

“Around,” Camilia replied, then said flirtatiously, “So, how’s a cute guy like you hanging around with Daine?”

“You don’t even know how I look like,” the voice responded logically.

“Well, women have a sixth sense about things, you know… Your voice, well, it really sends chills down my spine and I really… love… it… So… how about it? It can our little secret, you and I…”

“There is NO you and I,” he said firmly.

Camilia laughed a twinkling laugh, “Not yet, but I am sure you want to… come to the Winter Ball with me.”

“No,” the voice remarked dryly.

“Oh, what a tease you are,” she said sultryily. “I know you want to… go out with me… and get… possibly lucky…”

“No, and where is Daine?” the voice asked.

“Why are you so insistent on that girl? She’s in the examination hall,” Camilia responded. “You don’t know what a terrible person she is. She is a nice person, but she has a sense of insecurity. She likes to portray herself as someone vulnerable which guys really fall for. But, once they know her well enough, they realize that she can be a bit too possessive. Understandably because of her whole broken family background and her lack of security.”

Camilia paused and shared in a confidential whisper, “I really don’t want to say bad things about her and it is awfully mean for me to say it. But, I can’t just stand by to watch you accidentally get burnt with her. Just like my friend’s boyfriend. She started stalking my friend’s boyfriend and became obsessed with him. Thinking that he was hers, she followed them to a restaurant and made a horrible scene about it. But commendably, although he had every right to tell her to go to hell, he put his foot down firmly and told her to leave him alone.”

“Ah yes, the incident at the Deli,” the voice said dryly.

“Yes, you must have heard of it. Though Daine had twisted the news to her own benefit so that he would face pressure to go back to her,” Camilia remarked.

There was a long pause, the voice seemed to be thinking.

“Oh come on big boy,” she teased.

“So you have been helping your friend tell this… information to everyone,” the voice inquired.

Camilia laughed, “Of course I have, that little witch had it coming a long time. Hankering after Perrin, thinking that she was good enough for him. He was too kind hearted in not rebuffing her embarrassing attempts.”

“So, you want me to go with you for the Winter Ball and leave Daine stranded without a date.” the voice commented dryly.

“Oh, you make it sound so bad! But great minds things alike! It’s really just helping to balance karma. I really care about Daine and want to make sure she learns her lesson. I mean, in the future when she goes to work, she can’t expect all people to be as nice as me! She has to learn some humility. Not to depend on guys so much or be such a desperado!” Camilia explained earnestly.

“If I don’t go with her, Daine will find another date. So your plan might not work either way,” the voice responded, neutrally.

“So are you interested in going to the ball with me?” Camilia asked eagerly.

“I’m always interested in setting things right, and letting people get their just deserts,” the voice replied neutrally.

“Well, as you know, tradition at the Winter Ball is to give the most “talked about freshman” prize. So the emcees will call out the list of nominees for this prize. As you know, being the most talked about can be complimentary or insulting. Like,” she giggled. “You remember Numair winning the prize in his freshman year, for being the most talked about bachelor in campus for being sooo hot and eligible. Second place went to Evin Larse for being the second most talked about freshman for pulling that outrageous stunt on the Dean’s beloved car! Well then, as you know, there will be five nominees and three prizes. According to tradition, the emcees will shine the spotlight on the nominee and the nominee’s date will help give a short speech on behalf of the nominee on why he/she should win the prize.”

“So you want me to give a bad speech?” the voice asked curiously.

“No,” Camilia replied. “I want you to meet her at the ball, give some romantic excuse. Arrange such that she can identify you by a certain object, like, a red rose or something. So the emcees will be calling us on stage. Naturally her for the Yella Deli incident and me, for being the hottest fresh man on campus. Afterwards, they will call for their dates to come on stage. You will go on stage and act as if you will walk towards her, but walk towards me in the end. She will naturally have no date and be forced to speak for herself or for the emcee to ask for someone to speak for her. Then it will come to my turn and you can sing my praises.”

“I see,” the voice said. “Are you sure that none of Daine’s friends will go on stage to help her?”

“Ha,” Camilia sniffed. “Please, she doesn’t mix around with guys at all. Only with a few friends. Such an anti-social girl. Too busy chasing guys to make more friends. So are you willing to try and set things right?”

“Defintely,” the voice agreed affably.

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I can defintely sense that this snippet would cause a bit of ripple... on what is going to happen next, i'll leave to you all to guess, the only thing I can say is that look carefully at what camilia says and how the Voice responds to her. What questions she asks and how he answers. You'll realise he never outrightly condemns Daine and his language is rather ambiguous about who he actually believes in.

BSNS 3.3

2007-01-07T07:12:00.000-08:00

BILLIONAIRE SCIENTIST & HIS NEW SECRETARY
CHAPTER THREE
PART THREE

Some of my formatting was lost when I pasted this into here. Full version with bold, italics, etc, see ff.net. Otherwise, the content is generally the same. ^___^

BIG thanks to WildChild for pointing out my mistakes about the names!!

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“JEALOUS? Me? Numair Salmalin?” Numair spluttered.

Alanna raised an eyebrow and grinned at him over her cup of coffee. They were tucked away in the corner of DD, taking a breather in between meetings. “You should know by now that the whole building of Tortall Inc is held up by the winds of gossip, the moment it stops, one would think that the whole place would fall down.”

Numair put down his espresso shot and folded his arms. “As the internal security at Tortall Inc, you should know that some rumours are utterly baseless. Though this is the first time I ever heard a rumour about me being jealous over my secretary. Enamoured. Lustful. Goggling. But NEVER jealous. I can have my pick of females, there’s no need to be jealous.”

“Uh huh,” Alanna responded, “I didn’t say it was a rumour, it was a logical deduction on my part. You don’t need to get worked up over it.”

“I’m NOT worked up,” Numair retorted, drumming his fingers on the table. “And on what sort of evidence are you basing your conclusion on?”

“Your increasing affection and protective gestures towards Daine. It has not gone unnoticed by my all-seeing eye,” Alanna replied, grinning.

“Oh reaaallllyyy?”

“You did all but throw a spanking new wardrobe at her.”

“Oh come on, you saw what she used to wear, it all but resembled a potato sack. She had to give a good impression for our clients,” Numair huffed.

“But Prada? Versace?” Alanna inquired.

“Our highly discerning and wealthy clients,” Numair retorted.

“Throwing all sort of food in her way? And if I recalled correctly, you did order for her a roasted turkey breast sandwich with extra cranberry sauce and no tomatoes just now at the counter. It’s like a complete reverse from your former secretaries, they used to buy you meals without your asking, now you’re doing it for her.”

“She’s a bag of bones,” Numair answered, he started to drum his fingers faster. “Won’t have her fainting on the job, not that she’s anorexic or anything, but she just doesn’t eat enough.”

“You all but were growling at Kaddar?” Alanna queried.

“He’s no good news for Daine,” Numair muttered.

“And when did you start interfering with your secretary’s personal lives? You didn’t give a damn that one of your previous secretaries was hanging on the arm of the notorious playboy rapper,” Alanna replied, smirking.

“Daine’s different,” Numair mumbled. “She’s like a sheep and all the wolves want to have a nibble at her.”

‘Like you?’ Alanna thought silently, having noticed Numair’s eyes trailing after Daine ever since she put on her new wardrobe. However, she kept her thoughts to herself and said out loud, “Admit it Numair, you have a soft spot for her.”

“I’m NOT!” Numair spluttered. “She’s a…. friend! Nothing else, f-r-i-e-n-d. I go for blondes! I don’t really see Daine as a w-o-m-a-n.”

“For crying out loud Numair, you gave her your gloves. Your gloves man!!” Alanna insisted. “You positively hate the cold. Yet, yesterday you took off the very pair of gloves you were wearing to give to her to wear when you noticed that she was tucking her hands into her arms.” She put her hand over his to still his drumming fingers. “Is it that bad to fall in love?”

“Fall in love?” Numair said, looking absolutely stunned as if Alanna had just told him that the moon was made of cheese.

“Hello folks!” a cheerful voice rang out, “Is the food and drinks fine?” Numair and Alanna looked up at the intruder. George sounded friendly, but his eyes were hard as they looked at Numair. Without asking, George slid next to Alanna on the bench and casually laid his arm along the top of the bench behind Alanna.

Alanna looked at George queerly and he said, “Move over, I’m cramped.”

“What are you-?”

George bumped Alanna against her hip and she huffed a sigh of exasperation as she obediently shuffled more to the left. She took her hand away from Numair who now looked extremely amused.

Numair grinned, he stood up and leaned over, whispering into Alanna’s left ear away from George. “I’m not the only one with jealousy problems.” He picked up Alanna’s other hand, he brushed his lips against her knuckles and said, “Until later.”

“What?!” Alanna yelped and she turned to see George on her right giving Numair a deadly glare.

“So,” George said, in a too-casual tone. “How close are you to Numair Salmalin, seducer of women?”

Alanna sighed. Men.

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“She’s firmly in the friend category. Rooted. Planted. Chained. Cemented. Stuck. In that category,” Numair muttered, walking to his office. “What on earth is Alanna talking about with all the, the, L nonsense. Unless she meant it in a sisterly way.”

He walked through the double doors towards his room and stopped in his tracks. Speak of the devil… Numair gritted his teeth and fought down his raising temper at the sight of a man leaning over his secretary who appeared to be sleeping on her desk. Kaddar’s face was awfully near Daine’s when Numair barked, “What are you doing?”

Kaddar all but levitated as he jerked to his feet to face Numair. “I am here to pass you the follow up materials based on our last meeting.”

Numair could feel his temper raising as he noticed Kaddar’s red face – which was no mean feat considering Kaddar’s dark complexion. “I didn’t ask why you were here, but what are you doing to my secretary?”

“Nothing, just checking she was breathing,” Kaddar replied jerkily and nervously. “You know, in case she lost consciousness or suffered a heart attack…”

“At 24?” Numair said quietly, noting that Daine was still sleeping despite the brouhaha.

Instinctively, Kaddar also lowered his voice, “Just in case, one never knows. Nowadays, young people just drop dead all the time.”

Numair frowned at his flimsy excuse, but knew that he could find out what Kaddar had been doing. There were security cameras in the room. “Just get back to work.”

“Yes sir!” Kaddar nodded and quickly walked out of the room.

Numair stalked over to Daine’s desk and folded his arms, staring down at her. “You are a girl. You should know better than to let down your guard. Do you hear me? Serves you right if Kaddar took advantage of you while you were sleeping.” He said softly, not really expecting her to listen to his admonishments. Normally, he would clear his throat loudly or make some noise to wake up the sleeping personnel, but he found that he could not quite bear to do so. She had looked quite run down and tired lately. Stressed, like something was bothering her. He could not quite imagine what could be burdening her to such a degree of exhaustion.

It could NOT possibly be the working hours or workload. When he first noticed her weariness, he discreetly told Shalene to inform Daine oh-so-casually that during this period where Numair was busy inventing, she could come at 10am and leave at 4pm because he would not need her assistance as he would be in his own little world. It was the lull before the storm. When the product is about to be launched, she would then have her hands full. Till then, she could take it easy. Shalene had taken his new policy for his secretary into her stride and just smiled when he had instructed her. Suspiciously, she took it too easily and did not act the least surprised at his words. (He hoped like hell that Alanna didn’t find this out after her recent conversation with him – which is why he pulled in Shalene to help, rather than Evin.) Of course, like the new wardrobe, Shalene had to pretend that it was a long implemented policy. Not something provoked by Daine’s recent haggard appearance.

He scrutinized her silently. Her right cheek rested on her arm and chestnut curls that were free from her bun tumbled down her neck and face. Unbidden, his right hand automatically reached out to stroke the hair away from her face. Her spectacles were still haphazardly on her face. He frowned at her side profile – it was not that bad actually. She had surprisingly long eyelashes which most females had to laboriously attempt to artificially achieve with their mascara and eyelash curlers. It was a pity that she looked quite sallow in the light. His hand went to her shoulder, about to shake her awake when he noticed that she had eye bags and dark circles under her eyes. He hesitated and said, “Ms. Sarrasri? Daine?”

She did not stir. He sighed and took the remote control next to her console. He tapped a couple of buttons that caused a bed from the opposite wall to unfold. The double doors he came through swung closed and locked. Any visitor would have to ring the bell. He slid his arms around her and lifted her.

His frown deepened when he realized how light and skinny she was. “You’re too skinny,” he informed the unconscious Daine. “Light as a bird.” He carried her to the bed and gently set her down. “I guess this makes me feel better that I’m going to make you come with me to the Salmalin’s annual charity fundraiser. Mother insisted you know, as you’re supposed to be my fiancé. At least you’ll get some R and R. And I’ll be able to keep an eye on you and shove food down your skinny neck. Luckily I bought you a turkey sandwich. God knows what you would eat if I left you alone.”

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“Argh!” Alicia groaned. “I know I am in the advanced class but these problems are killer!! I swear, that grouch must have swiped the university final years’ examination papers and gave it to us.” She stretched and rotated her neck, “It’s been three hours but we’ve only covered a few problems!”

“Yeah, I know,” Daine grinned wryly and thought, ‘It didn’t help that I am distracted by yesterday’s turn of events. Argh! It’s no point wondering how I ended up on a bed in my office. A bed I didn’t know existed till yesterday. I would be more upset by that if not for Numair’s bombshell announcement. He all but ordered me to his mother’s weekend charity function to pose as his fiancé. I should say no, it’s not in my job description and I know, well, I think I know he wouldn’t hold any grudges if I really turned him down. But he looked so pitiful, reminiscencing about how his mother threw all the eligible ladies at him at every function.’ Deep down inside, she knew she had other reasons – primarily that she was beginning to fall- no, she was beginning to feel more… inclined towards him. Yes, inclined and wanted to savour every moment she had with him. She knew that he wouldn’t be interested in a girl like her, but still, it would be fun to one day tell her grandchildren all about the dark and handsome Numair Salmalin. Daine grinned, as if she would have any grandchildren at the way her love life was going… Her first and only boyfriend had been that backstabbing bastard who…

Daine blinked, realizing someone had asked a question. “Yes?”

“Oh good,” Alicia’s mother – Vivian Draper said, her hands clasped together. “I’ll let Alicia show you a change of clothing.” She walked off as Daine turned to Alicia.

“What?”

“Weren’t you listening?” Alicia asked, looking excited.

“Er… no,” Daine confessed. “I was… distracted… thinking about the problems.”

“It’s already dinner time and you accepted my mom’s invitation to have dinner with us at the club house.” Alicia informed Daine primly. “Besides, we need a break from all this physics.”

Daine gaped at Alicia. “I shouldn’t!”

“But oh, you already did,” Alicia grinned in reply. “Don’t you remember I always wanted to dress you up? This is the right time to do so! We’re going to a swanky club, so it’s dresses!!”

“Your physics problems…”

“Oh leave it,” Alicia said. “We still have our Monday session before my advanced test on Tuesday.”

“Oh dear,” Daine murmured. “I just remembered that something cropped up, so I can’t come on Monday.” She thought hard, Damn Numair, the weekend frolicking around his function will mean I have a pile of work waiting for me to finish on Monday. “How about this, I will take back the physics problems you have trouble with and pass you a written answer and explanation you can check against. If you have any problems understanding, just give me a call on my mobile.”

“Great!” Alicia chirped and clapped her hands, “It’s time for Extreme Makeover.”

“Umm… yikes!” Daine yelped as Alicia all but dragged her out of the room.

“Come on,” Alicia sang. “You are around my size.”

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Daine blinked at herself in the mirror. It had been a long time since she last dressed up like this.

“I’m a genius!” Alicia whooped. “You look like a model I swear.”

A beautiful brunette gazed at Alicia through luminous blue grey eyes that were lined with eye liner and voluminous lashes. Her soft lips painted in red lipstick were a sharp contrast against her flawless skin. Foundation really worked wonders. Alicia had attacked Daine’s curls with enthusiasm and managed to reasonably tame them. “You should give me back my spectacles,” Daine demanded, but not harshly.

“No, absolutely not, I am not letting you ruin my work of art by putting that butt ugly spectacles on,” Alicia protested. “Anyway, you should wear more figure hugging clothes like this dress! You got a good figure, you should flaunt it!” Daine sighed. She was wearing a black bustier dress with a flirty asymmetrical hem that varied in length – from mid-thigh to mid-calf. Thankfully, the skirt of the dress was voluminous and the shortest part was hidden behind the folds of the skirt unless a mischievous wind blew or if Daine moved more vigorously than a sedate walk. The bustier showed a bit of cleavage, no thanks to her more bountiful frame than the endogenous Alicia. She was not wearing a strapless bra, so Alicia unbent enough to lend Daine a long-sleeved shrug to button over the top of the dress – covering the bra straps and the cleavage (thank goodness!). Hence, nobody knew that she was wearing the strapless dress unless she took the shrug off.

“It’s time for us to go downstairs and greet the gentlemen!” Vivian declared with a wave of her hand.

“I’ll go and get my things,” Daine said to Alicia and she slipped off into the study room where they earlier had tuition lessons.

As she walked away, she heard Alicia’s father (Adam) say, “My brother is joining us today for dinner. We’re going to discuss how much we want to donate to our mother’s annual cause this year. Heard it’s concerning destitute elderly.”

“Where is Uncle Arram?” Alicia asked excitedly. “I can’t wait to show him my project for Odyssey of the Mind.”

“He came when you ladies were dressing up and was finishing up some work in the Study Room. He’s in the rest room at the moment. Oh a peculiar coincidence, when I mentioned Daine was joining us for dinner, he mentioned it was the same name as his-” Adam replied.

Daine walked out of hearing and she slipped into the study room and closed the door. She surveyed the room and found that the mysterious Uncle Arram had scattered his papers haphazardly around the room. She picked up a pile of papers that she thought was Alicia’s advanced science problems and started to pack her bag.

Daine grabbed her bag and was about to walk to the door when she heard Alicia squeal in excitement, “You gotta see this!”

The door opened and Alicia bounced in. Daine gaped as Numair Salmalin filled the doorway with his tall muscular build.

“Now what do we have here?” Numair all but purred. He stalked towards Daine and gently stroked her under her chin. “No need to gape at me, I know my two horns from my head are rather distracting.”

“That is such a bad pick-up line,” Alicia giggled. “See Daine, after getting you out of those frumpy clothes and wretched black glasses, you are having men fall all over you.”

“DAINE?” Numair screeched. It was his turn to gape.

“Why yes,” Alicia replied, shocked at his reaction. “Veralidaine Sarrasri.”

“I really should go,” Daine muttered and tried to make her way around Numair when he suddenly grabbed her bag.

“Hey!” Daine protested. “Give it back to me!”

Numair ignored her and took advantage of his superior height to hold her bag out of her grasp. He dug around her bag and fished out her wallet. He opened her wallet to see her driving license.

Daine folded her arms when it became clear that her attempts to regain her possession were futile and glared at him, “Are you satisfied yet? Give me back my bag.”

“I can’t believe it,” Numair muttered. “I must be growing old and senile not to spot all this potential under your hideous glasses.”

Daine rolled her eyes, “They are meant to let you see, not make a fashion statement.” Inwardly, she was pleased at his reaction, but suppressed the small voice that warned her that it was dangerous for more people to know how she really looked like…

“Arram?” Vivian called. “The limo is waiting.”

Numair frowned as he discovered Daine’s palm top in her bag. “You are not supposed to bring this home you know. The palm top contains some mechanisms that are pending patenting, it won’t do if the wrong hands get hold of it.”

“Alright, boss, I get it,” Daine huffed. “Mustn’t let your precious technology get lost.”

“Mom’s calling us,” Alicia said. “We should go, the reservations is at seven.”

Alicia flounced triumphantly out of the door, pleased with her uncle’s reaction. When Daine made to follow, Numair slid his arm around her waist and hauled her against him.

Daine looked up at him, with his face very close to hers as he looked deeply into her eyes. “What I’m more concerned with,” he punctuated this by shaking her gently. “If competitors find out you have your hands on the palm top and do something drastic like break into your place or rob you at gun point.”

“Uh huh,” Daine responded, trying to sound casual. Damn! Why must he smell so good? She could smell his aftershave at such a close proximity.

“I mean it Daine,” Numair persisted. “Don’t take technology out of the building. Not only is it against your contract, but it’s dangerous. I don’t want anything to happen to you…” his arm tightened around her waist.

Daine’s hearted hammered against her ribs as he leaned closer and whispered into her ear, “…or my inventions.” In a more jovial voice, he let her go, walked past her to the table and started to neaten the things on the table, “After all, you can’t possibly compensate me for the loss of all my hard work and brilliance. Each product I invent is a work of art.”

The moment was broken and Daine desperately tried to get her racing pulse under control. “Now you’re beginning to sound like Alicia with all this arty whatever. We better go,” She quickly walked out of the room and tried not to run out of the house, not seeing Numair’s red face+.

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+For readers who didn’t perceive this in the scene above, Numair was quite affected by his close proximity to Daine and had purposely hid his face from her by walking towards the table. He was blushing…. Awww…..

NOTE ABOUT PLOT (MAY CONTAIN MINOR SPOILERS)

It has been some time since I wrote some of the parts, but I have not forgotten about certain incidents. They happen for a reason and will come back again eventually. Or at least I intend for them to come back unless I have restrain of time and space.

I must admit there were certain plotlines I was preparing for, but realized it maybe too messy to carry on. Like, I originally wanted to put in the POTS bunch where they will be helping Alanna and Raoul out in security. But I think I better concentrate on the main story due to restraint of time. Perhaps in the distant future if I ever edit this fic, I might just throw it in, but at the moment, I’m leaving them out.

I also wanted to write more about Alanna/George/Jon, rather than to have the characters recap of what happened. But I realized that I wanted to better concentrate on the main focus of Daine/Numair and leave Alanna/George/Jon to the sidelines. So I’m afraid that’s why I “forwarded” their status of their relationship without going through the actual notions of a blow-by-blow account of what happened.

As some may probably already know, I originally intended for Daine to “pretend” to be Varice and correspond with Numair. So we have this bittersweet sort of thing going on and Daine and Numair slowly falling for each other. Of course leaving readers to guess whether Numair knows who he is actually corresponding with. But upon reflection, I realize that there was too much things going on (or things I plan to go on), so I took out that idea and wrote it as E-mail Exchange. That fic can be found on the blog on my profile page. I wanted to upload it on ff.net but ff.net can’t take the formatting. When I have more time some day, perhaps I will edit it to fit the ff.net formatting. Apparently they don’t like e-mail addresses which unfortunately takes away a bit of the suspense element.

BUT despite not having this plotline of Daine “pretending” to be Varice and correspond with Numair, there is still significance in Daine’s actions in editing the e-mail. As you will see eventually, Newton’s third law will hold true – for every action, there’s a reaction…

Thanks for reading!

BSNS Update (NOT a fic, just a update)

2007-01-04T20:16:00.001-08:00

Hello all! Thanks for all your patience and feedback! BSNS will be updated this weekend on ff.net, the only issue is how long the update will be. Hee hee. After BSNS, I'm trying to finish up The Jacket, in the midst of writing the ball and trying very hard not to sound too corny in the fic. XP

Lucky - one shot

2006-11-30T05:32:00.000-08:00

LUCKY

A fast dribble to distress… my papers were YUCKKK!!!! ACCKKKK!!! Torture not over yet though, have a few more papers to study for! Before I update BSNS and Love For Sale. A happy bleated birthday to Tortall’s Resident Wildchild! Unfortunately, your birthday fell on one of my examination dates! Bleh! But will update BSNS and Love for Sale after my papers are over.

This fic turned out A LOT longer than I expected. I only meant for it to be one page, but it just carried on.

Well, if you wonder, why do I always put them university period and older? Simply because they are of legal age to do the different things I plan for them to do. No.. NOT that… but drinking, going to clubs.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

I never really quite believed in luck, fate, karma, etc. I’m more of a you-hold-your-own-destiny-in-your-hands kind of girl. So I feel rather queer, standing here, under the tree in the park. You see, I’m waiting for my Mr Right.

Yeah, you hear me right, I’m standing under the tree waiting for my Mr Right, after having consulted this “Be Lucky in Love” manual that Miri lent me, after having calculated my celestial elements, after tracking down the oh-fated spot, and after setting up the instructed trap.

Trap?

Yeah, it’s a hole in the ground actually. Don’t worry, it’s not THAT deep. I’m too lazy and besides, it would be hard for me to lift my Mr Right out of the hole. But I’m imaging my Mr Right has the muscles to lift up himself. Ooh la la!

I must be getting desperate. Alright, I’m super desperate. I’m nearing the end of my university life (ala shelf life) and all my friends are attached. Except me. Even stalwart Miri who I thought I could always count on to keep my company on Saturdays to watch movies. She is very into this whole luck thing and purchased this manual. Followed it assiduously, and hey presto, she got hooked up with Evin. Evin, who, is a pretty darn good catch. He’s the basketball team captain and most rare of all, is a genuinely nice guy! He could literally have his pick of girls of the school, but he just fell head over heels with Miri. And now happily acting as her bolster to hug and chauffer. I wanntttt…..

So here I am… waiting for my Mr Right. According to my calculations, this was THE spot, THE moment, for THE one. I folded my arms and leaned against the tree. Hmm… my Mr Right… I would want him to be someone who is kind, caring, someone who I can have an instant connection and is intellectually stimulating. I’m banking on a nerdy, but brilliant kind. Sweet. Yes, he must be sweet. I dislike those popular kinds who struts around. I think I will always be on tether hooks that he will one day cheat on me, look at the others and go, keh, I shall go for some new young thing. Yuck yuck yuck! No no no! I am not going to bank the rest of my life on that kind of guy.

“YIKES!”

My trap! I ran towards it and peered in. “I should know better than to believe in these stuff!” I muttered, throwing up my hands. “Instead of a prince, I get a frog.”

“Hey,” he grumbled. “Who are you calling a frog and why is there a hole in the middle of the park?”

I turned to walk away and he gently grasped my elbow. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

I looked at him with some interest, “Not bad, looks like you are quite fit.”

“Of course,” he said. “I am the captain of the swim team.”

I made a face, “yuck, forgot about that, a pity you’re a popular playboy kind.”

He turned red. Was he actually blushing?

“I’m not…”

“Oh yeah? Mr Prom king? Changes partners like you change clothes?” I rebutted, calmly continuing my walk out of the park with the book in my arms.

“I don’t change partners like I change clothes!” He spluttered. “I haven’t even got attached for a long while!”

I stopped, raised my eyebrow and gave him an appraising look, “Ah… yes… I forgot, you’re anti-commitment. Playing in the fields, like a dog and bunnies. Woof woof.”

“Argh!” He growled in exasperation. “I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you. And did you have anything to do with the hole on the ground?”

“Well,” I said. “As you know, I am trying to find my Mr Right.”

He paused, and I continued to walk. He caught up, “Isn’t that kind of rather cave man period? Trapping man in holes? What are you going to do next? Club him on the head with that book you are holding?”

“This book is a manual on how to get your right partner,” I recited what Miri had told me. “It is rooted deep in history and has been passed down through the ages. Don’t scoff at it till you try it.”

He grabbed the book of my arms. “Hey!” I yelped.

“Lucky in Love?” He read skeptically.

“Don’t scoff at it, if you haven’t tried it. It has been translated from an ancient language,” I said. “Besides, it’s been tried and tested.”

“Not by you surely,” he remarked. “Or I wouldn’t be falling down holes like Alice in Wonderland.”

“No,” I said. “My friend… and give me that book back, I have to return it to her.” I snatched it out of his hands.

“fine fine,” he said. “Where are you heading to?”

“My plan B,” I replied. “And you should stop following me.”

“Plan B?” he asked.

“Yes, the traditional way. I am going clubbing.” I said.

“ALONE?” He asked. “I never thought you were the clubbing kind.”

“I am not the clubbing kind, I don’t even like alcohol,” I replied. “But fact is, today is THE day, where I am destined to get lucky to find my Mr Right. So I have to go out there and put myself in the market before this day ends.” I responded. “And what’s wrong with a girl going out alone?”

“It’s not safe?” He protested.

“That’s nice of you, but you don’t even know me,” I said.

“Of course I do,” he said. “Veralidaine Sarrasri. You’re in the school’s Physics Olympiad team.”

“And you know that because…”

“I am also in the Physics Olympiad team!” He said in exasperation. “Weren’t you there for any of the gatherings?”

“You are?” I said in surprise. “Well, I’m actually more of the ‘spare’, the backup. So I don’t train with the actual school team itself. And I don’t go to the gatherings, because it’s more of the main representatives to rub shoulders, while us backups just help clean up.”

“Where is this place?” He queried as I pushed open a door.

I threw him a look, “For someone who is such a player, I am utterly shocked you can’t recognize this as a make-over and styling studio. I am going to look my best when I go into that club.”

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

In the studio…

I had to stop myself from staring at his oh-so-fine physique clothed in such stylish garb. “Why are you still here? Why do you look like that?”

He turned and looked at me, and I guess it was his turn to gape. I was definitely not looking like my usual self. I had ditched the glasses, had my hair curled, temporary highlights, and makeup. Not forgetting the clothes. I normally wear baggy shirt and jeans as being a Physics major, I had to often do experiments. Now, I was wearing a rather short flirty skirt, high boots and a dressy top that showed a bit of my midriff. To top it off, I was going to wear a trench coat. Spiffy.

“I thought that since he was accompanying you, he should dress up as well. Otherwise it will spoil the total effect, no no?” my stylist beamed happily.

“Hmm…” I responded. “Anyway, time’s a wasting. I gotta get me a man.”

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

In the club…

“Shoo shoo, go away,” I muttered under my breath to him. “You are destroying my mojo.”

He growled.

“Seriously, you can go home now. I’m sorry you fell into the hole. But you are spoiling the chances of me finding my Mr Right with your glowering,” I grumbled. Both of us have been the subject of much gazing by the opposite gender, but his possessive stance made the other males wary of encroaching on his territory.

“I don’t understand why you are doing this,” he protested. “You’re pretty, smart, have an interesting personality, you don’t have to resort through such means!”

“I don’t have to…” I took in a deep breath. “My dear Mr Numair Salmalin. If you haven’t realized, I am not the typical girl a guy digs. I am not small, demure, giggly nor blonde. No guy ever looks my way twice. At best, they see me as a buddy, at worst, they ignore me. I just can’t compare to the girls in university. Those dressed up gazelles, while I am this donkey trotting around. Anyway, the quality of guys at our faculty, seriously sux. All the good guys are taken, left with the players and completely ineligible. I don’t have any opportunity to meet new guys. Tell me man, where have the good men gone to?”

There was silence. In fact, total silence.

I realized to my mortified horror that my voice had risen in volume in my tirade. Everyone in the club was staring at me. I was about to crawl underneath the table

Numair stood up and pulled me close to him. He cupped my face with one hand and said in a voice that carried, “Now dear, I know it was bad of me to forget your birthday, but please forgive me? Please don’t break up with me and find some other guy.” He went down on one knee, grasping my hands with his. “Will you forgive me please? I am willing to make up to you in any way.”

The crowd waited with abated breath, with someone yelling, “Forgive him already! If you don’t want him, I’ll take him. He’s a hottie!”

“Er… yes,” I replied. He swept me up in a big hug and kissed me passionately. The crowd applauded and the DJ went, “Let’s leave these two love birds alone, this song is dedicated to them, I’m a Slaavveee for youuuu.”

Numair gently brought me outside, with his arm around my waist. I couldn’t believe what just happened. When we were outside, I said in disbelief, “What did you forgetting my birthday have to do with what I had just said? I can’t believe the crowd believed that!”

“It doesn’t matter really,” He said, his arm still around my waist. “I just gave them a better drama they wanted. Besides,” he leaned closer to me and whispered in my ear ”they can’t quite believe you, as hot as you look” Then he straightened and said jovially, “and a handsome guy like me begging on my knees.”

“Harumph!” I protested and took myself out of his grasp. I forgot that he was Numair Salmalin. One of the school’s most popular guys. The antithesis of who I did not want… right?

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

In School...

I sighed, swinging my feet as I sat on the school bench. Miri’s book on my lap. It was the next day of that momentous occasion that the book had said. I guess, that’s it, in terms of good luck and all that stuff, this was it. The end of my quest for love. I looked up at the sky, I wondered if Numair remembered me, or did he just dismiss me as some quirky girl he picked up at the park. Deep down inside, I did want to see him again, but knew it was unlikely as we moved in such different circles!

Hmm… why was Miri taking so long? Must be Evin distracting her…

“Hey, what’s this?” a voice said and the book was snatched out of my lap. It was Varice and her giggly group of cheerleaders.

“Lucky in Love?” someone screeched.

“How lame is that?”

My face burned with embarrassment and I didn’t quite dare to look them in the eye.

“I can’t believe that she thought this works!”

“In fact it does,” a deep voice interrupted and my vision was temporarily obscured by an arm. Numair sat next to me and rested his arm around my shoulders. “That’s how I met her,” Numair said and took the book back from the cheerleader. They were all in shock and I didn’t blame them one bit.

They dispersed and Numair hugged me closer. “Are you alright?”

I nodded.

“Do you want to grab some lunch?” he asked.

I looked up at him in surprise. “Are you doing this out of pity? Or are you just playing around?”

He frowned at me, “Of course not! I like you my dear girl. If you can’t tell, I’m trying to get a date out of you.”

“A date?” I gaped. “But you’re…”

“Popular? Not by choice, I must assure you.” He said. “It’s strange, but you must be the only girl I know who is so against me for my popularity.”

I looked at him consideringly. He did satisfy all my criteria, except for the popular bit… who knows if one day he tire of me and move on…?

“We can catch Bridget Jones’ Diary two afterwards?” He prompted.

Oh my gosh. He was offering to watch a chick flick with me. The number one sign of besottedness. Even Miri couldn’t get Evin to do that.

“Come on,” Numair said. “You could get lucky in love. Just give me a try?”

“Maybe I will,” I grinned to Numair’s joy.

Truth - One-shot

2006-11-07T09:58:00.000-08:00

Truth

A little scribble to relief some stress and unwind. Something for all of you to muse upon before I return after the exams. I must add that I don't approve of what Daine and Numair is doing, as I do dislike unfaithful people! But, it's an interesting idea to play with. Yeah kids, do NOT follow their example. I’m not fully happy with this scribbling, as I feel it is rather choppy, but ah well, this is for fun. Happy reading!

WARNING: Rather mature fic, implied stuff as usual.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“When are you going to tell him?” the baritone voice broke through the blanket of languor that enveloped me after that rather… hasty bout of er hum… on his desk.

I glanced at the owner of the desk, who was straightening his shirt. I felt awkwardly exposed at my state of undress and quickly tried to wriggle off his desk. Damn his rosewood desk. It was big, hard and high off the floor, no doubt to accommodate his rather lanky legs. It was also smooth and polished, which made it rather awkward for me to scoot of the desk, after he had enthusiastically thrown me on top of it.

“This can’t continue on,” he said, turning to face me as I finally managed to slide off the table and hastily picked up my clothes.

I let my hair fall down to obscure my face from his view, as I quickly put on my clothes. This? What did he mean by this? THIS being me cheating on my fiancé who is his friend? THIS being me and him?

“I told you in the beginning that you were not right for him,” he said, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

I bit my lip, dream on Daine, like he was ever interested in you for you in the first place. He just wanted to prove himself right. That this average salary earning working girl did not match up with his rich best friend – Kaddar. Kaddar who was the CEO of the subsidiary company that he owned. I glared at him, standing there in the dark, looking all like the little emperor who built the vast empire of companies. It didn’t help that I was in his rather impressive office that could easily home a family of five.

“Fine. You seduced me. Several times, rather successfully,” I snapped, buttoning up my shirt. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth. How did this all go so wrong?

I first met him when Kaddar threw a dinner party for me to meet his friends. Slipping out of the party to get a breath of fresh air, I discovered a kitten stuck in the tree. I took off my shoes, disregarded my white dress and was clambering up the tree when He called up to me. He insisted that I get down from the tree and promptly took off his evening jacket and climbed in my stead. Till then, I never really believed in something called love at first sight, or maybe lust? There was this instant spark, chemistry between us. We clicked and conversed in the gardens until Kaddar found us and introduced Him as his boss – the infamous Numair Salmalin. Numair turned cold and curt. He eyed me and pronounced that I was not right for Kaddar. It hurt. It really did. Although people around us were rather skeptical about our great social and economic gap, they never did point it out as rudely as He did. Being the best man, we ran into each other a couple of times. Until that night, where I got quite intoxicated, one thing lead to another and he took my innocence on the couch at his place. We had several other… occasions and I had intended to stop this nonsense today, storming into his office. But he… um…

I shook my head, and pressed the heel of my palms against my eyes. Face it Daine. You accepted Kaddar’s offer as the biological clock was ticking. Thirty-three years old, well on the shelf and you just didn’t want to spend your days alone. Fine, perhaps you did have some sort of affection, but it wasn’t the crazy kind of love that you had dreamed of when you were young. The crazy kind of love that you regarded as pretty fiction meant to deceive the young when you turned the big 30. The crazy kind of love you think you might be feeling for this indignant man who was just proving a point.

I laughed crazily, “I don’t think you will believe me if I said I don’t do this normally. It’s totally out of character.” I swallowed hard. I couldn’t really blame him if he thought I was some world-class slut for sleeping with him when I was already engaged. Sure, I refused, protested, but the fact was, in the end, I had succumbed to his rather forceful and skillful persuasions.

To my surprise, he came behind me and slipped his arms around me, rubbing his cheek against my hair. “I know,” came his simple reply. “You should have told me that you were a virgin that night.”

I went completely red, “How on earth-?”

“It wasn’t your time of the month and I discovered there was a bit of blood as well as other factors,” he replied. “Anyway, you better break it off with him soon or I will be forced to take other measures.”

My heart clenched. What was I expecting anyway? Some declaration of love? I tried to wriggle out of his arms, “Don’t worry so much. I’ll break it off.” I sighed, “I don’t think we both really loved each other anyway. It was more of, being at the right place, right time, and just being two lonely people.” His arms tightened around me.

I blinked rapidly. I hated it when he was nice to me. I hated it when he was sweet. I hated it when he acted caring. I rather that he acted mean and cold. Sure, it might hurt, but it sure didn’t compare to the way I was feeling about him now. My brain screamed, stop Daine stop! Don’t you dare try to fall in love with him. But my heart protested, how do you expect me to do that when he’s making it so easy for me to fall in love with him?

It’s time to do the adult thing now Daine. Time to let go. I tried very hard to sniff very quietly. It’s sad really. It’s sad that I’m crying, not because I’m breaking off my engagement with Kaddar. But because it’s the end of the road with this man who’s cuddling me. There’s no more reason for him to hang around. No more reason for us to talk any more. No more reason for us to be together in any way. He’ll move on to the next target, and I’ll just… hang around by myself and thinking what could have been. Perhaps fantasize a bit of him bursting through my apartment with open declarations of love. Argh… A huge tub of chocolate ice cream was badly needed.

The truth sucked.

Big time.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

I placed the tub of chocolate ice cream against my aching face when the door bell rang. I padded to the door in my baggy t-shirt and shorts and opened it.

To my surprise, Numair gently cupped my face and scrutinized it, the other hand on my back to prevent me from squirming away. His eyes hardened as he saw the slight bruise on my left cheek.

“Yeah, well,” I muttered, unnerved by his direct gaze. “I bet you are happy now, that I got my just deserts.”

“HAPPY?” He growled. “What on earth did you tell him? You were supposed to just break off the engagement!”

I sighed, and broke away from him, plunking myself on my couch. “Don’t worry so much about me incriminating you. I left out your identity. So go in peace.”

Numair stormed over next to me in the couch, then scooped me up onto his lap. I yelped, “Hey!”

“Do you seriously think I was concerned about him knowing about me seducing you? I don’t care. I don’t give a damn. What I care is how explosive his reaction would be! And see what happened! He hit you damnit!” Numair exploded. “I was about to fire his ass, but decided it was much better if he was still under my thumb so I can make his life a living hell at work.”

I looked down, confused. Why did he care so much? I gasped as I saw Numair’s hands that were resting on my thigh. “What happened to your knuckles? They are bleeding!”

“I thrashed the living daylights out of him for good measure.” Numair growled.

“Why are you so upset?” I asked, curious. “I thought you would probably sympathizes with him and all.”

“Of course I’m upset that someone would dare lay a finger on the girl I loved. He’s damn lucky not to have to be carted off to the mortuary instead of the hospital,” Numair responded.

“LOVE?” I cried, dazed. “But you said I was not right for him!”

“Of course I did. You were not right for him, but you were right for ME,” Numair replied. “Why on earth did you think I went through so much trouble to make you break off your engagement with him?” He nuzzled me, “To tell you the truth, I think I fell head over heels in love with you when I saw you trying to impetuously rescue that kitten. I know I have put you through quite a lot, but I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

The truth’s great.

Big time.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Still alive and kicking!

2006-11-01T09:37:00.000-08:00

Yup, still alive and kicking! It's fair amazing it's been quite some time since I've updated. Unforunately, exams are around the corner. But, take heart that after exams... are holidays! Holidays mean free time, free time means writing time. yeah! Anyway, take care everyone, don't be too stressed! ^________^

LFS: Part 3:1 - Money, money, money, it's a rich man's world

2006-10-06T08:51:00.000-07:00

Yeah, this is NOT the full and final part. Defintely not. I plan to try to write about the weekend visit in this part. BUT, because all of you have been such nice and patient people, just decided to let you all look see at what I've got so far. BUT, take note, of course, it's NOT the final version, I may do some minor editing when I finish with this part. Anyway, enjoy! My assignment period is not over yet, but this tidbit has been something I've been writing on and off.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

LOVE FOR SALE

PART 3: MONEY, MONEY, MONEY, IT’S A RICH MAN’S WORLD

I am not really a girly girl. I am a practical girl. I don’t swoon, faint, cry and kill insects ruthlessly (I am living alone in a less than hygienic area of town). But I was now perilously close to giving in to hysteria, crying hysteria. Throwing things around and breaking them kind of hysteria.

My flight was postponed. They didn’t tell us immediately that it was postponed. No, they seemed to enjoy our miserable suffering of hopes lifted then crushed. First, it was a one hour delay, then two… Finally, perhaps due to the outroar at the counter, the truth was finally spat out that the flight would postponed by 24 hours, which means most of the weekend would be gone by the time I reached my step mom’s house. Then there is the huge problem of how to get to the isolated island. It was not cancelled, so I couldn’t get a refund. I had to change flights, but all of them were full. The only ones left were first class seats which were wayyyy out of my budget. I had just an aggressive encounter with the airline counter people where they happily ignored my completely logical argument. I bought a ticket from them for the express purpose of getting to France today. I would not have bought it otherwise. Now that it was THEIR fault that I can’t get on that flight, it is their responsibility to get me there and should waive the difference between the first class and express class tickets. No, instead the irritating lady avoided my line of argument and just went, we did not foresee that the aeroplane would not be able to fly today. Well, ya duh! If you foresee it not flying today you would not have sold tickets for it! I was just an inch from leaping over the counter and strangling the lady. I hate being a small fry.

Meanwhile, Arram had went off somewhere. Presumbly to report to Onua? I wonder what he would say, job is possibly postponed, cancelled? Shift his other appointments around? Argh, I don’t want to think about his other job appointments. I liked to think that he had a soft spot for me, a special client. Ah well, I’m free to indulge in my imagination. Though my mind screamed for me to get a grip. I felt a familiar hand grasp mine and I looked up at Arram.

He was carrying our luggage that he had checked out. I blinked, “What?”

“Come on,” he said. “I pulled a few favours.”

“A few favours?” I asked as he towed me along to a waiting car outside.

“Yup, I know this pilot who flies this private jet for this company, so he happened to be going to France anyway to get someone from there. It’s no problem for us to just hitch a ride with him there.” Arram explained.

“Ohh…” I said, almost faint with relief. To my surprise, the car did not stop at another airport, rather, it drove into a separate portion of the runway. It was a novel experience as the guard allowed us to go through. We were literally driven to the plane. Arram opened the door for me as I got out. Forgetting the awkwardness I had initially felt at being treated like a girl girl, with the door opening, bag holding conduct by a willing male. I marveled at what has to be my first and only flight on a private jet. It was nothing like its rugged commercial cousins nor shared their impressive size. But it was much bigger than I thought. I guess I had the misconception that it would look like a car in a plane form. I don’t know about planes, but it seemed like the Porsche of private jets with its sleek design. The interior was very impressive. It was carpeted, really carpeted. Not the cheap standard fabrics found on commercial planes, but real carpeting. The seats were spacious and looked like armchairs with leather holstery. I didn’t have a chance to explore the plane further for we were ushered in by an air stewardess. I wasn’t expecting air stewardess, but I guess the big boss would have wanted one, hence she was also on the same flight to go get him.

We were safely tucked in, our luggage stowed away by an air steward, by this time I was too busy gawking at the interior to really note all the personnel on board. Then we were on our way.

“Nice huh?” Arram grinned, putting his hand on mine.

“Wow,” I whispered. “They actually are giving us food?”

“No worries,” Arram patted my hand. “I know them, so treat this like, how you would let your friends have an extra bucket of popcorn when you were working in the cinema snack stand.”

I laughed, “This is no way near that!”

“Well, just enjoy the ride,” Arram said and pressed some mechanism to make his chair lean back.

“This plane is so impressive! I wonder how the toilets must be like!” I exclaimed.

He laughed, “Go ahead, they won’t mind. Just ask them for directions.”

I came back looking thoughtful, “Hmm…”

He was reading through some business magazine, but immediately gave me his full attention when I returned. “Disappointed with the toilets?”

“No, but I wonder how to get to the island. I think Judith enclosed a map in the invitation card she sent.” I said, Arram signaled to the air steward who promptly passed me my hand carry luggage. I dug out the invitation card and opened it. Arram took it from me, sparking an “Arram!” from me.

He smiled at me, he should REALLY be a movie star, he has such a heart stopping smile. “Don’t worry, let me talk to the pilot. Perhaps he knows more about how to get there. Besides, I think there’s a telephone up front or something.”

I didn’t want to burden Arram any more, but I didn’t really have a choice. I wonder how many dinners he must buy to treat his friends who pulled strings for him? Maybe I can chip in by offering them free wedding consults?

still alive, still alive

2006-09-24T03:26:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone!

Thanks so much for all your encouragement and support! I know I've been MIA for quite a bit and unfortunately, will continue to be MIA for at least another week or so. It's the much dreaded assignment (ala mid sem exams) period.

In case people are wondering, how much more before the fics are completed? Good point. BSNS is prob half way through. Love for Sale is one third. The Jacket has 2 more parts to go (one more conversation and the long awaited Ball). Anyway, I'll be back!!

The Jacket Snippet 4

2006-09-07T02:37:00.000-07:00

I'm glad I sorta "backed up" my fics by posting it here and ff.net! So not all is lost, but still. Anyway, in the spirit of paranoia, I'm posting the next snippet here till I can get another thumbdrive to back up. There's only so much times a person can re-write something. Oh yes, as usual, italics and formatting is gone due to transfer from microsoft word.

Thanks Pottermania22 for pointing out my error!!

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“You think exams are stressful enough, but why do silly twits introduce the idea of the winter ball after the examinations? Nobody has time to think of anything else besides cramming calculus in their heads. Everyone does last minute shopping, we end up wearing the same clothing and pretend that we don’t notice,” Daine grumbled, trying to keep her voice down as she was in the train on the way home. The voice made an appeasing noise.

“That’s true,” the voice agreed. “I guess males have it easier, standard penguin suits.”

“Besides,” she paused and took a breath, “I was supposed to go with Perrin. But of course now, I can’t. I don’t want to go alone, but if I don’t go, it’s like I’m hiding away from him. Both ways people will talk. Ack! I hate this. I already have a gown. A terrible, dreadful splurge. It’s something I wouldn’t have dared to buy if Miri hadn’t browbeaten me into it. It’s so expensive to me that I am forced to wear it some day. I will probably insist that they put it in the coffin with me when I pass away.”

She paused and then continued consideringly, “You know, it’s a modern world. Girls don’t have to go with guys to balls. I just have to make sure that I look ultra-fabulous. Argh, but ultra-fabulous means people will stare at you. I’m not a normally ultra-fabulous looking girl, so people will think I look ultra-fabulous or an ultra-fabulous wannabe. It’s so much skin! Ackk!!”

“Calm down Daine,” the voice soothed. “Just go and I am sure you will look ultra-ultra fabulous. Actually… I want to ask you whether you wanted to go to the Winter Ball with me.”

“What?” Daine spluttered. “It’s alright, you don’t have to, you know. I wasn’t hinting to you or asking you to-”

“Daine,” the voice interrupted.

“Yes?”

“Quiet,” the voice scolded gently, but firmly. “I do want to take you to the winter ball. I had wanted to ask you for some time but the timing just was not right. So if you want to reject me, do it because you think from our conversations that I am some irritating jerk or boring nerd. DON’T do it because you think I’m doing it out of anything else than romantic interest.”

“Romantic interest,” Daine repeated dumbly. “You. Me.”

“Yes,” the voice affirmed. “Do think about it, you don’t have to give me the answer now. Anyway, it would be a wonderful opportunity for us to meet and change jackets. Though I must admit that I am developing a fond sentimentality for your jacket.”

“Me too, but it’s because it’s comfy to wear. I can’t quite imagine you wearing MY jacket,” Daine joked.

The voice laughed, “No, of course not, it’s just hanging over my chair. It’s the first thing I see when I wake up and when I enter my room.”

A sound interrupted their conversation. “Wait, I think you got a video message,” Daine said, startled. “Let me see.”

“Don’t! Daine wait-“ the voice instantly protested before he was cut off.

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“Hello?” the voice asked.

“Oh… hi…” Daine replied

“Is everything alright?”

“I…” she responded, then forced herself to laugh. “I just, didn’t realize that you’re more in demand than I thought.”

“In demand? Daine, speak to me,” the voice requested urgently.

“It’s nothing, I saw your video message without your permission,” she said meekly.

“And?”

“It was of Clarissa… one of the campus… er…”

“Bicycles?” the voice helpfully supplied.

Daine laughed, “Well, yeah, campus bicycles, the usual joke thing well, she asked you whether you wanted to go to the Winter Ball with her.”

“Are you sure she asked me?”

“Well, to be honest, she didn’t say your name, I guess she was busy… acting sexy? But anyway, it’s alright if you want to rescind your invitation to me. Since she did ask you first…”

“I don’t care if she asked me first because I am not going with her. I want to go with you. Veralidaine Sarrasri.” The voice interrupted firmly.

There was a long pause.

“Daine?” the voice asked, concerned. “Are you there?”

“I am just shocked,” she replied. “You are heterosexual right?”

“Of course I am heterosexual!” the voice quickly said indignantly.

“I mean, you just turned down one of the hottest babes on campus to go with me,” she said. “Me, you know, the girl you haven’t really seen before.”

“First, she may have sent the invite to the wrong mobile phone number. Second, I like your personality. Not hers. Who gives a damn if you’re not the hottest girl on campus. Besides, the reason why she’s hot is not because of her personality, but of her physical side, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m very flattered.” Daine remarked. “I am actually quite touched. I mean, wow, you must be one in a million. Based on the video, I would say you have a very high chance of getting lucky.”

“Liking someone is NOT about the sex Daine. Well, it’s like if hottest guy on campus comes up to you to ask you for a date,” the voice explained.

“You mean like Numair Salmalin?” Daine said. “Well, he’s hot and sexy and everything. Plus side is that he does have brains having historically high grades and supposedly quite a nice guy. I guess if he ever asks me to Winter Ball, I would just think he’s joking and should be sent to a mental hospital. Besides, I think he’s going with Varice who has been chasing him since forever.” She laughed, “Oh goodness, but I think I know what you mean. If Perrin can cheat on me like this, imagine Numair, where temptation for him to stray is heaps abound, with so many other girls who are better than me throwing themselves at him. Nah, ordinary men are better for ordinary girls like me.”

“He’s not that bad! Perrin’s an ass, you can’t make a sweeping generalization that all men are like that,” the voice protested.

“Alright, maybe not all men are like that. But logically speaking, I think that’s why most couples I see, the girls are always equally good or better looking than the guys. Perhaps girls are less shallow. Or perhaps guys go for appearances and tend to go for the best package. Of course I am screaming, you shallow twits! But logically, you would always want to go for the best you can get. Why stay with A if B is better than A in all ways? I mean, around campus, you can see ugly, funny guys with pretty girls on their arms. But a fat ugly girl with cute guys? Never. Never I tell you. It’s society I tell you, society!”

“I hope Perrin didn’t turn you into a man-hater,” the voice remarked.

“No… I like you, don’t I? Perrin just made me more aware and more realistic. That people loving each other SOLELY because of what they are inside is rare. Appearances do matter. And… it is horrible to find out that my appearance is just… lacking… that I have no real expectation to think that a good-looking guy with a wonderful personality would like me.”

“What did you say?”

“Er, that I have no real-“

“No, earlier,” the voice said urgently.

“Perrin made me more aware and more realistic?”

“No, earlier than that?”

“The rant about societal expectations?” she asked.

“No,” the voice said with exaggerated patience. “The one that you said you liked me.”

“I did?” Daine said, panicked. “Er, no, you must have misheard. Oh, gotta go, I reached the examination hall. Talk to you later!”

CRAPPY NEWS!!!!

2006-09-05T00:04:00.000-07:00

horrible horrible news. The device I use to store all my stuff, my school notes, my fics, everything has been stolen from me in the computer lab!! It is VERY disturbing because only students from my faculty (which is pretty small) can access the lab. SO SAD!!!!! I have to literally start from scratch again!!! My next installations of Love for Sale, The Jacket, BSNS! Gone! All gone!! As well as fics which I had been sitting on, like The Prophecy. Besides that there is a lot of irreplaceable data on it. Damn. darn. ACKKKKK!!!!

It'll be some time before I can post again as I have to re-type everything. *nearly faints* But first priority is to start replacing all my missing school notes!!!!! *CRIES!!!* I guess I should be glad that I posted snippets of The Jacket or I have literally re-write everything, yeah, it was a nearly 30 page document. THIRTY PAGES... *sits in dark corner*

What are you looking at 3?

2006-09-04T22:18:00.000-07:00

Fluff to cure the Monday blues...

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"What are you looking at?" Daine mumbled sleepily, refusing to open her eyes. The floor felt cold against her cheek and the hay felt scratchy against her skin.

"Hmm..." came the deep voice. "How do you know I am looking at you when you don't even open your eyes sleepy head?"

Daine tried to roll onto her stomach away from the disturbing voice, but was stopped by gentle hands. "Cloud told me that you came into the stables, stood and stared at me for a while."

"Did she mention that I was sighing and look exasperated?" Numair asked, slipping a strong arm under her should blades and another under her thighs.

"What are you doing?" Daine protested drowsily. "I'm too tired for that."

"I'm not- Daine! I don't want- " Numair spluttered. "Well. I'm bringing you to bed. I told you so many times not to drain yourself this much!"

"But Darkmoon pulled a muscle and Alanna needs him for tomorrow," Daine explained.

"Rubbish! You could have asked another to do it, especially since you have been exhausted from flying back from Dunlath Valley in falcon shape," Numair scolded and lifted Daine in his arms.

"I'm too heavy," Daine argued. "Let me down, I'll go up myself. You're going to create a scene."

"You brought this on yourself Magelet," Numair replied. Daine started wriggling and he sighed. "Fine, I'll put an invisible spell on us." With a kiss on her forehead, he made his way towards their room.

What are you looking at? 2

2006-09-02T22:50:00.000-07:00

Fluff to cure the Monday blues!

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"What are you looking at?" Daine queried drowsily. She was cacoooned in a layer of warmth on the bed, while the rain gently fell outside the window. She felt safe, warm and mildly curious.

A finger gently traced the arch of her nose before trailing down to her mouth, then brushing away stray curls from her face. Knuckles then gently brushed her cheek. "Go to sleep, it's too early to be up and about."

She peered at the dark shadow beside her on the bed. Numair propped himself up with his left arm while his right hand gently stroked her face. "You're avoiding the question," she pointed out. "It's becoming a creepy habit you know, me waking up to see you looking at me."

"Why? Is that a problem?" Numair lifted an eyebrow, resting his wandering hand on her hip.

Daine blinked herself into awakefulness, and rested her head on her arm. "Mr Salmalin, I do believe you are avoiding the question. Why are you looking at me? I have enough of people looking at me lately. No thanks to you!" She poked an accusatory hand in his chest.

Numair took her extended hand and pulled her towards him. "Well, you have to get used to it I'm afraid, me looking at you." He started to nibble on her knuckles, keeping his eyes intently locked on hers. "Because you're mine. And I'm possessive. And I love you. And most of all, you look oh-so-delicious. " He gave her a heart-stopping smirk and proceeded to demonstrate that he meant what he said.

The Jacket Snippet 3

2006-09-01T21:18:00.000-07:00

Just finished sewing the curtains last night. Ack... try as I might, can't finish writing The Jacket yet. So here's a third snippet continued from the second snippet from the fic. As usual, my italics and bolding and what not is missing from the transfer of microsoft word to here. Enjoy!

Would like to thank the anonymous reviewer for pointing out my error regarding the quote from Romeo & Juliet!

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“Why are you calling me everyday?” Daine asked, resting her head against her hand on her desk.

“Am I?” the voice said. “Weren’t you so weak in calculus that you asked me to explain to you how to do your problems? There’s nothing like good revenge in getting good grades.”

“Ha, don’t you know guys are turned off by intelligent women?” Daine responded, half joking. “This is utterly spoiling my chances of ever finding a guy again.”

“Rubbish,” the voice said sternly. “Then he is not a real man. Like me.”

She laughed, “Well excuse me, you hunk of a man. But anyway, there’s something that bothers me though. I have your mobile phone, but why don’t I get any calls or messages?”

“Why? Hoping to voyeur into my life?” the voice inquired dryly. “Well, sorry to disappoint you if you were snooping around my phone, but I am in the habit of not keeping any messages on my phone and deleting them after being received. Anyway, I am very strict about people contacting me during the examination period. They would get their heads bitten off. Besides, I told the essential people I had changed my number temporarily.”

“What?” Daine yelped. “You have gotten another mobile phone? Don’t be crazy! Don’t waste your money like that! If you just get your phone and jacket back from me on the first day, you wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble!”

“Yeah well,” the voice remarked. “I am a sucker for punishment.”

“Ha, I guess you must have gotten a new black jacket,” Daine said.

“No, I expect for it to be returned to me eventually, there’s now great sentimental value to it,” the voice responded.

Daine felt what he said was in the spirit of humour, then proceeded to point out, feeling a bit bad that she was disturbing him, “Anyway, if you are that touchy during examination period, you shouldn’t call so often. It’s really alright! I. Am. Not. Going. To. Commit. Suicide. And. Visit. You. From. The. Grave.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” he said. “No, I am not calling you in fear of supernatural retribution. You help me clear my mind actually, when I take a break from studying. Normally I am a practical hermit during examinations. Never speaking to people. Never seeing them. But I guess I realized… it’s nice to have some human interaction now and then. I am surprised as you are actually.”

“Uh huh,” she said disbelievingly.

The voice laughed, “No, seriously, my reputation for being reclusive during this period is quite well-known.”

“Why don’t you tell me who you are?” Daine questioned.

He was silent before he said lightly, “Is it really that important to know who I am? Would it be a definitive factor of how you would judge me?”

“No,” Daine answered promptly. “Of course what matters is what is inside. As Juliet said, a rose by any name smells just as sweet.” She sighed, he had been strongly elusive on the subject. “Anyway, I must admit something that might affect your reputation though…”

“My reputation?” the voice asked, surprised.

“Well, I,” Daine blushed. “You don’t need to worry about it really. Just that, I wear your jacket when I go out. Unlike you, I only have one jacket which is the one you currently have in your possession. I honestly didn’t realize that some people might assume, wrongly assume that I was wearing my boyfriend’s jacket. Anyway, your jacket is a very generic black jacket, so no worries! If anyone just links it, you can just tell them that-” her voice caught a bit and she forced herself to continue “-she is just some loser girl who took your jacket by mistake when she was dumped at the Deli. The Yella Deli incident.” She took a breath and tried to sound light, “I know you probably don’t want to be associated with me at the moment, but yeah, I just thought I should let you know.” Her cheeks burned and she felt more pain than she had originally thought when she said that. “But it’s ok really, I understand.”

“Daine,” that voice sounded infinitely tender at that moment. “Don’t be silly. You are a great person and I wouldn’t mind if my name was linked to yours.” He added in a lighter tone, “I hate Perrin’s guts. Hopefully, this makes him realize that he’s a fool for not treating you better and he will get jealous as hell. So please, do continue to wear the jacket. It’s partially my fault that I have held on to your jacket this long.”

Daine felt a thrill of pleasure at his words, but tried to throttle the feeling down. He was just trying to be nice, platonically, right?

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“I heard some wonderful news,” Daine sang. “Even though I know morally, I shouldn’t be happy at people’s plight, but really, I can’t help it!”

“Hmm?” the voice said, sounding a bit hesitant.

“Perrin turned up with a black eye and bruises at the examination paper today,” she said. “There are rumours flying around about how he got it. But common consensus was that he said something bad about the girl he cheated on me with and another person got offended and kicked his ass. Great question as to who was the one who thrashed the living daylights out of him.”

“The girl he cheated on you with? Are you sure?” the voice sounded surprised.

“Well, they say it is a girl he was romantically involved in, but it’s common consensus that it is the girl he cheated on me with… unless there was another girl I did not know of,” Daine mused.

“Really… I don’t think so though,” the voice remarked. “Maybe it is you?”

“ME?” Daine laughed. “Oh my gosh. Me? No no, I am a pretty low profile person before the Yella Deli incident. My good friends are basically Miri, Miri and Miri. I don’t think anyone would defend me besides her. You know how people are, they tend to ignore what doesn’t affect them. Why, what rumours did you hear?”

“Hmm…” there was a voice and the voice seemed to be thinking.

“What?” she joked. “Perrin said something nasty about me and you kicked his ass?”

There was a suspicious pause before he said, “Whoever he is, Perrin just got what was coming to him.”

Jacket Snippet 2

2006-08-27T09:21:00.000-07:00

ARgh!! Wanted to finish The Jacket by this weekend, but duty calls. My friend asked me for a personal favour to help her with sets and props. Have been sewing curtains all weekend and probably the rest of the week. Arghhhh....

Anyway, for more DN fluff, I'm posting a second snippet of The Jacket, it is continued from the first snippet. I think it should be alright, though I wonder at the flow of it, I do know I want these incidents in, but whether I will juggle them around or add more stuff, well we'll see. As usual, my formatting here is a bit messed up.

NOTE T RATING and possible OOCness!!!!

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“Hello.”

“Hi hi! Are you Perrin?”

“No.”

“Oh good, I would have scolded you till blood ran out of your ears!”

“He deserves that.”

“Yeah, that cheating he-slut.”

There was a pause before the voice asked, “Um… can I speak to… the girl carrying this phone? About five feet five I think, slender, smoky hair, dreamy blue-grey eyes-“

“Oh! You mean Daine? She’s drunk right now, I don’t think she’s really up to talking to people.”

“Let me try to talk to her nonetheless,” the voice said firmly. There was a long pause and the sound of fumbling.

“Heeelllllooooooooo…..” Daine mumbled.

“Daine? It’s me,” the voice said.

“Miri says you have such a great voice…” Daine said. “Sex chat-line… youuuuu.”

The voice laughed, “That’s the first time someone said that to me.”

“Hmm…” Daine mumbled. “Sex….”

“Where are you?” the voice asked gently.

“Hoooommmeee, homeee on the rangggeeee, wheerreee thee deerrr anddd tthhheee-“ Daine sang.

“How much did you drink?” the voice interrupted.

“Whiskey shots. Tequila. Beer.” Daine mumbled, then added sadly, “Drown sorrows. But sorrows swimming.”

“Oh dear,” the voice sounded appropriately concerned. “No wonder you are drunk. Mixing alcohol can be very potent.”

“I know!” she said excitedly. “Sex!”

“No, no Daine. NO sex,” the voice quickly rebutted.

“Yes, get back at Perrin.” Daine started to sound fascinated. “Show I am not a frigid stick like he thinks I am.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “He doesn’t know. Nobody knows because I haven’t done it yet. SHHHHHHHH!!!!”

“You should keep it that way,” the voice said urgently. “You really DON’T want to waste your first time like that! You should only do it with someone you love.”

“Good idea,” Daine said, in a sing-song-voice. “That will show him. Yes it would! Yes yes yes!”

“No, no no no no,” the voice protested, sounding panicked. “Daine, listen to me. You are drunk. Don’t do this while you are not thinking clearly!”

“Go… outside… pick up guys…” Daine giggled. “They say some girls are easy lays, but ALL guys are easy lays…”

“Daine, DO NOT go outside,” the voice commanded, then coaxingly said, “Converse with me Daine.”

“Con-verse?” Daine repeated, her drunken mind thrown off-track by this unexpected concept. “Shoes?”

“Yes, shoes Daine,” the voice quickly responded, quickly grasping the opportunity to turn her mind to more chaste topics. “What shoes are you wearing?”

“No shoes. Underwear?” Daine helpfully answered.

“Uh yes,” the voice replied hurriedly. “Wearing underwear is good. Keeping them on is EVEN better. Let me tell you a funny story about my roommate.”

The voice successfully kept Daine distracted and they talked about all sort of things. He soon learnt about interesting details of her life and she listened to all sort of information about him. It was his panic and desperation to keep her distracted that made him spill more than he had intended.

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“Hello?”

“Hello.”

“Whew, I thought the mobile phone would have run out of battery.” The voice said.

“Yeah well, it’s true that I did get drunk, and fell asleep at some point without switching off the mobile phone. But, my friend managed to scrounge up the mobile phone charger. Thank goodness the brand uses a standard charger. Your phone is expensive mister!” Daine exclaimed, and made a face, unseen by the voice.

“Are you rambling because you remember what happened last night and feel dreadfully embarrassed or because you DON'T remember last night and feel embarrassed at what might have happened?” the voice asked, sounding amused.

“Oh, oh gosh, I am just…” Daine spluttered. “I can’t even think of the polite, nice response to that. Oh heck! Since you already must be having the WORST impression of me either, let’s just say that you have enough information to blackmail me. I am now regaining sobriety. Or maybe it’s just that I happened to visit school to get some books. Everyone was staring at me weirdly. Everyone. Whispering. Talking. Like, I was this terminally ill person and they are like the doctors and nurses whispering about how bad my condition is. How they must treat me nicely because they must break to me bad news. I just, couldn’t take it and hopped on the train back home. I just thank God that it’s examination period and I don’t have to go back for lectures any more.” She took a breath and rested her forehead against the window pane of the train.

“I, I…” Daine said. “I can’t stand it. I felt like, oh, ground open up and eat me up. Why is it that if a man strays, people take it matter of factly? Some think there’s something wrong with me. The worse ones pity me. I, the victim. ME, the one who was cheated on, is coming out worse from this situation. What crap about men and their sexual urges and needs. Like it’s some entitlement that they should get some. I mean, if I was a guy and he was a girl. Everyone would be going, oh that slut.” There was the sound of her harsh breathing before she calmed down enough to make it softer.

There was silence for a while before she said, “You are in school, aren’t you?”

“Me?” the voice blurted.

Daine smiled. “I realize… you’re sweet. You probably called me to return your jacket. Thank you for not sic-ing the police on me yet. Look, I will go back and return the jacket to you. I mean, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

“No,” the voice said. “I am not in school. Besides, I am concerned about you.”

She laughed bitterly, “That’s what a lot of people say now. I guess it’s hip and cool to get all the gory details out of me. To know the poor victim and all the sordid details. To be in the know. No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not like that. I just… dragged you into this mess called my life. All you wanted was your jacket back, but in return, you get this hysterical and psychotic girl.”

“Daine,” the voice responded. “I don’t think your true friends think like that. I cannot deny that there are gossip mongers in school, but who cares about what they think. Anyway, you can return the jacket to me another day, I am rushing a take-home examination currently. So it would also be difficult for me to run to school now.”

“You know the strange thing?” Daine said. “What you said is the correct answer. A logical one. A good answer. Yet, it just… doesn’t sink in you know. I mean, I KNOW that. I know that is the correct answer I should believe and follow. Yet. It still hurts.” Her voice broke briefly. “It hurts to admit it hurts. It hurt to admit that I threw in a 100% into the relationship and it meant nothing. I tried to psycho myself into thinking, oh hey, you didn’t throw yourself into it, you didn’t take it seriously, you didn’t think he could be the one you were looking for. But it just….” She stopped, on the verge of tears. She blinked furiously.

A clock chimed in the background and Daine suddenly laughed weakly, “You are such a liar, I recognize that chime, it is the old clock tower near the university’s library.”

The voice sounded thoroughly chagrined, “I am having a take-home examination though.”

She sighed, “Why don’t you just ask me for your jacket? You don’t know me. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to protect me.”

Daine thought he would laugh it off but there was a long silence before he finally replied. “I don’t know either. But…. what I do know is that I do not want to be the source of your further distress.”

The Jacket Snippet

2006-08-24T09:17:00.000-07:00

Hello!

It's been a long tiring week. School is draining and had to endure evil glares while I nodded off in class... ack... Anyway, thought I would post a snippet of the Jacket, basically the beginning part for you all to read while waiting for me to finish up the fic. One thing I do like about posting on the blog is that readers get to read the fics without any inkling of what it is about so you probably get the full impact.

Please note the fic will get T rating, probably because of implied fluff and a bit of language. Strangely, this would be the first fic I would have to consider rating because of language. Of course it is very moderate language, and I am NOT in the habit of using vulgarities (if you haven't realised already) but, I realised in the context of the fic, it's a bit unrealistic if Daine doesn't swear a bit. As usual, my formatting is gone, so no italics and such. But you can probably get the gist.

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Human beings are curious creatures. One would think that with all the tragedies and insecurity of the world today, they would be on an active lookout for things that would cheer them up. Watch comedies, relax under the sun, play at the beach. Stop and smell the roses. Be drawn by happy moments. Like bees to flowers.

Conversely, with so much problems human beings shoulder, one would think that they would ignore unhappy things. Like flies fleeing from Venus trap plants, not wanting to be swallowed in by the poisonous depression. After all, if your life is bad enough, why do you want to make yourself more depressed? Why waste so much tears and emotions on a completely fictional character that has a tragic ending in a movie?

But, like flies to garbage, people are curiously attracted to tragedies, bad news and depressing sights. Don’t believe this? Take a simple drive along the highway. If you see a happy couple, singing along brokenly but with great gusto in a car, it would attract little attention. A couple that is obviously quarreling and gesturing, most would take a second look. A family getting out of a parked car, happily unloading their paraphernalia for a great weekend getaway would be hardly worth people’s notice. On the other hand, people would slow their cars to a crawl to curiously peer at car accidents.

And, nothing gets people’s attention like a “human car wreck”.

A fine example of this phenomenon was being played at the edge of the Culfield Park. A young woman was sitting on a bench, her unruly hair messily framed her face that was red and stained with tears. She dabbed an ineffectual damp tissue across her eyes and blinked hastily and futilely to clear away the tears that welled from her eyes. Her normally clear blue-grey eyes were red and bleak. It was most unfortunate that at this moment, the oversized black jacket she was wearing attracted additional unwanted attention. Although it was winter and jackets were common, the particular jacket she was wearing looked expensive and decidedly male. The sleeves were far too long for her and hampered her ability to use her hands. However, she contrived to make the best use of this inconvenience by wiping the sleeve of the jacket across her eyes. The jacket seemed to hit her at mid-thigh and enveloped her slender frame.

In winter, not many people would be out and about, but this poor young woman seemed to be having a very bad day. Or more accurately, a very bad choice of location and time. She was seated at the edge of Culfield Park that connected the University of Culfield to the shopping district. Despite the cold weather and shorter days, students were driven out of their toasty beds to attend lectures before their grueling mid-term papers in hope that their tutors would throw them tidbits of examination hints. Some students kindly gave a pretense of being busy with something else while walking by, looking at her at the corner of their eyes. Some had just simply stopped and stared.

“That bastard,” she mumbled under her breath in an incoherent chant. “I’m going to castrate him. Damnit. Just he wait and see. Bastard. Can’t believe he did that to me. I’m going to kill him. KILL HIM.”

The sound of the mobile phone rang persistently, interrupting her diatribe and increasingly inventive mutterings of revenge that were too crude for the ears of the young. It took the woman some time before she realized that the sound was coming from one of her pockets. Temporarily yanked out of her misery by the curiousity of the sound, she clumsily searched the jacket pockets and produced a slim flip phone.

“Hello?” She asked, her voice rough and hoarse from crying.

“Hi,” a deep voice answered. “You took my jacket by mistake.”

“What?” She asked, her mind fuzzy with grief.

“My jacket. You came to the Deli and… stormed off. You accidentally took my jacket in… your haste-”

“Yeah. Just say it. Stop mincing your words around me. I HATE liars,” the young woman interrupted the man angrily. “I came in, saw my boyfriend, or should I say EX-boyfriend making out with some slut in the Deli. I made a scene, instead of that sorry bastard being sorry. He screamed at me as not satisfying his needs so he has to go elsewhere. MEN! Horny bastards. Expecting sex just because you are your girlfriend. For crying out loud, if sex is THAT important, go hire a whore!” She sniffed audibly.

The other voice was taken aback by her brutal honesty and there was a momentary pause before he wisely decided not to defend his gender but to placate her. “I do apologise if I had accidentally offended you. I must admit that it is my first time dealing with such a situation… Are you alright?”

It opened the floodgates and the woman poured her frustration and woes into the unexpected confidante. To his credit, the voice sounded genuinely sincere and made appropriate comments and noises from time to time. Her emotions raged from anger, before it transformed to sadness and self-introspection.

“I know I am not Varice Kingsford with the big blonde perfect hair, big boobs and flirtatious smile, but I’m not a hag either!” the woman whined. “What is wrong with me? I know I am not like the normal university female. I don’t like wearing spaghetti straps or tight, short skirts. I definitely can look good if I wear that, but it’s just so impractical! Can you imagine doing our lab work in that? And shaving is so inconvenient! Maybe I should have dressed better, act more bimbotic and feminine and all that.” Her voice became quieter. “What is wrong with me? How can such a scum of the earth like him NOT want someone like me.”

“I think you are pretty,” the voice responded.

“You are just saying that to cheer me up so that I won’t throw myself off the bridge and be unable to give you back your jacket,” the woman sniffed and sighed.

“No, really,” the voice said. “You have very beautiful eyes. Blue-grey. I think you have an unconventional sort of beauty, the sort that grows on you. I did notice you when you came in, before the whole brouhaha started.”

The woman paused, touched that he actually seemed to mean it and deeply surprised that he remembered how she looked. Although her depressed state of mind attributed his attentiveness to her creating a scene at the Deli and him trying to be nice. “Oh… thanks.”

“Sorry to interrupt the conversation, but if you are still outside, maybe it’s time for you to start going home? It’s starting to turn dark and it’s not very safe for a female to be out alone at this time of year. Don’t want to catch a cold before the examinations and there are not many people out here except us crazy students.” The voice said.

“I don’t think anyone is going to bother with a girl like me,” the woman remarked, deep in self-pity. “I’m an utter mess. My eyes are swollen, my nose is running. Sex perpetuators will just run screaming. Frankly, I just feel so numb. I don’t feel cold.” She laughed depreciatingly. “Like I have the mood to go cram for my papers.”

“Hmm… well, you my dear, have my jacket in your possession. It won’t do if you get mugged and it gets stolen. So go home.” the voice gently commanded, but with a certain firmness to his voice. “I expect my jacket to come back to me in its entirety. Anyway, I have YOUR jacket as ransom.”

“Ha,” the woman responded. “My purse is with me. My jacket hardly has anything in it. Doesn’t matter. I don’t think I ever want to see that jacket again. You can burn it.”

“No, I think I will keep it with me,” the voice teased gently. “I can use it to hunt down your scent, hire some dogs to track you down. Anyway, my wallet is with me as well, but I have some valuables in the jacket you are holding. But, I think I can do without it at the moment. It’s almost dark. Night falls very fast in winter.”

“Yeah, it matches my mood,” she commented.

The voice apparently decided to take another tactic and he said, “Please DON’T tell me that you are going to try to play the pity card. Fall sick or get mugged. Make him feel guilty.”

“PITY CARD?” the woman spluttered and heaved herself to her feet. “Are you kidding me? HE is to be pitied after I get through with him! And you actually think a puling worm like him can feel something like guilt?”

“Exactly,” the voice agreed, “He probably can’t feel guilt, so it’s no point getting yourself sick or into trouble because of that.”

“Well, yeah, don’t you want your jacket back? I’m at the Culfield Park. I can wait for you to get back your jacket,” the woman challenged, feeling obstinate.

“No,” the voice pleasantly responded. “I will wait to get the jacket back at another time.”

“Ha,” the woman said. “So how do you expect to do that when you don’t even know WHO I am and my contact details?”

“No worries, I will call you again at my mobile phone,” the voice answered. “See you soon.”

The Jacket: Daine's ball gown (mumblings, not a fic post)

2006-08-20T10:33:00.000-07:00

dun dun dun dun! I finally get to write a dance/ball scene in The Jacket!! I have entered the ranks of D/N fluff!! hahahaha... I am not terribly good as coming up with fashion, so I started to browse the internet for some ideas as to what Daine should wear. I narrowed down to a few selections, which I like, I might make her wear that for other fics (BSNS, Love for Sale). (The final gown that she does wear is not posted on here yet, as I am having trouble posting it. But I will post it when I figure out why the programme is suddenly blocking the cookies.) Anyway, since I do have this blog, I realise I can post pictures of what I am inspired by. Like I will probably post some pics of Daine and her step family's clothing of Love for Sale. If anyone knows of any good clothing webpages to visit, feel free to suggest! On with the clothes!

A bit of SPOILER info: to set the context, The Jacket is set as the characters in University. Daine wants to (or rather Miri browbeat her into) make a good entrance at the Winter Ball. Besides, she wants to make someone regret for dumping her. *end spoiler*

The usual black dress

(one can't quite go wrong in it, but I guess in this fic, I want her to have some dramatic entrance which requires a good eye-catching colour. what colour, what colour... since it's a fluff fic, and she has blue-grey eyes, let's go with the old favourite... a BLUE GOWN!!)

Ethnic gown

(A rather nice unusual spin to the blue gown, but can come off as a bit mature and not too va-va-voom. But, I do like the ethnic spin to it, may appear in other fics.)

Eleagant blue gown

(I think it's rather for a red-carpet event, a bit too mature for our Daine in the fic. Besides, I am going to make her DANCE man! And it's going to be difficult for her to do that in this gown. It is va-va-voom but for more mature people rather than young. Still, it's nice, perhaps will appear if I write about Daine going to some rich man bash.)

Blue bustier gown

(This is a nice striking shade of blue. I guess it helps that the model is brunette as well, but I think it doesn't have the effect that I want for Daine to have in the fic, though this was a close contender.)

about the fics

2006-08-20T09:34:00.000-07:00

School has started again... nasty stuff, but has to be done... I would like, emphasise on like, to be able to post on ff.net every one or two weeks. Sometimes I may post fics that I already posted here and sometimes it maybe new ones.

I treat ff.net as my main fic posting place. It accepts all my formatting (except for my What If and E-mail Exchange), coz this blog can't take my italics and bolds from microsoft word. So, as long as the fic is on ff.net, I will post updates on there first. My blog is a place for me to put my dribbles and initial mutterings. It also acts as a backup, so all my fics can be found here as well. So if you do read the fics on my blog, please note that it may not be completed and it may not be the final version!! Sharp eyed readers may notice slight differences between BSNS on ff.net and on here. As you will see from my brief summary of what's on the backburner, there are some fics I post here that will face some delay. BUT I do want to finish all my fics eventually, it's horrible to leave them hanging!!

What do I have on the backburner (possible SPOILERS). A good summary for myself.

Published on ff.net:

BSNS (will be updated)
What If (argh, i need some inspiration for this, but it's on hiatus for now)

Published on blog:

Love for Sale (will be updated eventually, though not as high in priority as BSNS... that's why it's on my blog... it's still going through initial phases... I'm halfway writing part 3, I want to finish writing about the whole weekend at Daine's stepmom's house, which is turning way much longer than I had originally anticipated before posting it)
Masquerading as Numair's Mistress (temporarily on hiatus)

Unpublished:

The Jacket (One-shot) (WILL be published on ff.net soon, possibly this weekend)
modern fic - I finally do what all D/N fluff writers do which I had amazingly not done yet. I FINALLY write a ball/dance thing in a fic. wah... I have been looking on the internet for a perfect gown for Daine to wear. More musings on that later.

The Prophecy (temporarily on hiatus)

Yes, I am considering writing a sequel to Life Mates. But not now though. More than enough on the plate. I find it's easier to write when the mood strikes me, rather than to sit down and grrr it through. The Jacket is a good example, the plot idea just hit me and I wrote most of it in two sittings.

Love for Sale query (SPOILERS!!)

2006-08-11T21:24:00.000-07:00

Hello! Would like to see if I could receive some feedback about this question I am pondering about with regard to Love for Sale. This may contain some spoilers, so please DO NOT READ if you don't want to guess as to regard to the storyline.

Question: Would you rather I drop extremely obvious hints about what is Arram's day job or should I just leave it to the end as a total surprise?

I am now pondering over this, yes, I am halfway typing the next update, but wondering whether I should leave a very obvious hint. It's harder for me to see whether the story will be nicer or not if readers know or do not know what Arram has as a day job. As I obviously already know, hahaha, so it makes no difference to me. I haven't encountered any fic with a storyline like mine yet, so I don't have any personal feelings or experience about whether the story will unfold better or not. Anwyay, will welcome and consider any feedback, though note that the feedback will not be a conclusive factor. You can leave a comment on this post or e-mail me or contact me via ff.net methods (i think they have this send message to author function).

Thanks!

BSNS 3.2

2006-08-11T20:37:00.000-07:00

BILLIONAIRE SCIENTIST & HIS NEW SECRETARY

CHAPTER THREE

PART TWO

I must comment that I am pleasantly surprised and pleased to find that readers are able to spot the parallel I had drawn from the books and certain inferences in this part without me expressly saying it. Well done man! But no worries, for those who are unable to see it, the next part will probably help make it clearer.

Ages
Ignore the books, I am not keeping to those ages or age differences. Daine is 24 years old. On Numair, Alanna and Jonathan’s ages, etc, I am undecided. But I guess they would be in their early thirties.

Time Line
Numair has 2 months to come up with the new product. One month has passed since Daine started working for Numair, so Numair has one month left to come up with something. Varice is only supposed to come back after the product launch that is why Daine decided to let Numair find out for himself then.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Daine walked towards Tortall Inc buildings, her skirt flapping gently against her legs. She was mulling over the enigma called Numair Salmalin. He appeared to be on his best behaviour for the past month and indulged in this, this queer habit of getting her little things now and then. Like some weird crow bringing knick knacks that caught his fancy to his nest. Of course it was nothing valuable or expensive, for she would have thrown it back in his face. No, it was little things.

Insignificant in monetary value, but… strangely kinda… well… cute… and thoughtful even.

It started off rather subtly. He brought back leftover food from his various meetings, no point letting the food go to waste right? Then it moved to snacks on sale (“it was three-for-the-price-of-one-and-I-can’t-finish”), graduated to unusual food and knick-knacks (“I thought you might want to try this”). Slowly, it evolved to him just passing it to her without a word or leaving it on her desk. Perhaps he found it tiring to come up with excuses or perhaps because she stopped protesting. She was still wondering how he discovered what food she liked, when he had introduced her to a whole palate of tastes that she had never encountered before. (Tortall Inc really pampered their precious scientists during this period) At first, he got her a range of different food, but soon, he seemed to realise what were her favourites. He still got her unusual cuisine, but he seemed to know what she liked and disliked. She wondered how he found out that - was it because he occasionally hung around her table checking documents and saw her attack her favourite sour-cream and onion potato chips first and leaving the rest for later? She can’t quite imagine him looking at her dustbin for the onions she threw away from the taco. Or going outside to talk to the other staff to see what food was left over from a food hamper from a client that he passed to her. Somehow, he just knew, he stopped giving her dark chocolates (which she disliked for its bitterness) and concentrated on milk and white chocolate. He even brought back a mutton burger without onions. (She knew he purposely ordered one without onions because of the scribbled instructions of the restaurant on the wrapper.)

He was nice, yet all this niceness was beginning to make her nervous. For once in a long long while, life was getting to be better, almost good even. Her generous pay check from Tortall Inc and money earned from tuition was going a long way in repaying her debt to Miri.

The clothes, oh the clothes. A gentle smile played around her lips as she remembered how she had first stroked the clothing when she first had the wardrobe to herself. It has been such a long time since she had such wonderful clothing. Even then, the clothes she wore in the past couldn’t compare to the current ones. She blanched when she saw the brand names, and absolutely refused to check how much it was. When she first wore them, Numair actually did a double-take and told her she looked… acceptable. Blah, he was probably stunned that she had some sort of a figure – something which was buried under all the poor cutting of her previous clothing. Like the current woollen dress she was wearing. Awfully practical and warm, but made her look like some matron aunt. She felt a mild satisfaction at his surprise, but curbed any impulse to further dress up.

She frowned thoughtfully, ‘If Evin didn’t tell me that the clothes budget was a perk that senior executives at Tortall Inc enjoyed once they were permanently retained, well, I would almost think that Numair bought those clothes to sooth his guilt. Ha! As if I would accept charity like that. Harrumph, thinking that money will help make things better. Like I’m a mistress or something where a pretty trinket would easily put me in a better mood. Still, I only wear those clothes at work since they were meant for work.’

She gazed at her reflection in the tinted glass of the building and sighed. ‘It is really such a challenge to dull down my look now that Numair has practically all but ordered me to use the clothing in the office.’ She tilted her head this way and that, her minimal dull make-up made her look rather bland and devoid of colour. The blue-grey eyes that would vividly light up her face were safely hidden under thick lenses. A minimum of foundation and a boring lipstick from a convenience store. She remembered fondly of the days she had preened and dressed up, enjoying appreciative glances from… She shook her head, that was all in the past now, and she had to move on to the future…

“Oomph!” A stranger collided with Daine and the document bag he was holding fell onto the sidewalk.

“Oh I am so so sorry!” Daine immediately apologised and bent down to retrieve the bag. The stranger must have had the same idea, for when she straightened up, she found that he had similarly bent down. Thankfully, he was tall and they avoided a direct head-on-chin collision. Instead, she had smeared her lipstick from his collar (and to her great embarrassment) to his cheek. She jumped back and her spectacles, which were hanging precariously on her nose from her brush with him, fell off her nose.

She had a chance to inspect the stranger as he immediately retrieved the spectacles. He was tall, with short cropped black hair and was as Miri would put it, decent eye candy. Daine held out her hands to take back her spectacles, “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.”

He looked her in the eyes and a smile slowly spread on his face. “Blue-grey.”

“What?” Daine asked quizzedly.

“You have blue-grey eyes, quite uncommon for brunettes,” he said, smiling engagingly. “Don’t you know that if a brunette child has parents with blue and brown eyes, he would inherit brown eyes. It’s a more dominant gene.”

“Oh,” Daine responded, amused. “I guess we’re a dying breed.”

He smiled and instead of putting her spectacles in her hand, to her surprise, he fitted them back onto her face. “You should really ditch your spectacles and go for contacts. You have really amazing eyes.”

“Ah… sorry about the shirt,” Daine replied, unwilling to be dragged into a mild flirtation with this strange man. “I will pay for the cleaning expenses. Just…” she dug out a piece of paper and wrote down her business contact number and name. “call me and I will handle the bill.” She was tempted to write down her address or business address for him to send the bill to, but she wasn’t too comfortable with the idea in case he had stalker tendencies. At least with a contact number, she could screen the calls or worse come to worse, change the number.

“The shirt,” he examined it briefly. “Quite an unusual shade of lipstick. Well, it is alright, there is no need, but…” he took the paper, grinning. “I would like your number, thanks.”

Daine looked at him incredulously, torn between being charmed or insulted, forgetting how dowdy she looked, “Please don’t tell me this was a weird pick-up tactic.”

He grinned, “No no, in fact, I am due for an important meeting soon. Meeting the big boss. Wouldn’t be a great impression if I went in with a ruined shirt.”

So feeling charmed it was and a great deal of contrite. “Oh dear,” Daine apologised. “Why don’t you buy a new shirt? I will foot the bill.”

“No worries,” he said. “I will give a go at cleaning it, worse come to worse, I will beg or borrow. Well, I better go.”

“Alright, good luck for your meeting, err…” Daine said.

“Kaddar, the name is Kaddar,” Kaddar supplied. “I have a feeling we will meet again very soon.”

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Her brief collision with Kaddar made her nearly late. Fortunately, as she was using the private elevators, she didn’t have to fight with the crowd, but still, she did an undignified sprint across the lobby. She ran a hand through her hair, a nervous habit, forgetting that she had tied it back into a bun. Her careless rake through the hair undid some of her hard work in taming her wild hair and some strands of hair fell loose from the bun. ‘Whew,’ Daine thought. ‘It’s stuffy in the elevator, the woollen material of my dress is not helping.’ She undid the first few buttons of her dress and tugged at it to allow the air to cool herself.

As her luck would have it, she nearly collided with Numair, who apparently had faster reflexes than the stranger, grasped her arms to prevent her from colliding or falling over.

She blinked, “Good morning Mr. Salmalin.”

He stared at her.

Then took a step back.

“Mr Salmalin?” Daine queried at the strange look on his face. “Is there something on my face or something?”

“Um, no,” Numair said. “You just looked as if… well then. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend?” Daine yelped. “No, I am single.”

“I am glad to hear that,” came a familiar voice behind them.

Daine turned and blurted, “Kaddar?”

Kaddar walked forward and held out his hand, “Good morning Mr Salmalin, I am Kaddar, 4th division project leader. We’re supposed to have a meeting this morning.”

Numair gave him a slow appraisal, his eyes lingering on Kaddar’s stained collar and cheek. His eyes flicked to Daine, then back to Kaddar again. He said in the coldest voice Daine had ever heard, “Get yourself cleaned up. You’re an utter disgrace to Tortall Inc.”

“Yes sir,” Kaddar answered meekly as Numair strode off into his office.

Daine gaped, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would take a dirty shirt that harshly.” She pressed the buttons to reveal the toilet.

“Wow, how do you figure out which remote and button to use,” Kaddar mused, impressed at her mini-collection of remote controls and gadgets.

“Ah well, toilet is the absolute first thing I learnt. The rest, well, doesn’t really matter,” she said distractedly, opening the toilet door. She dragged him inside and winced at his shirt.

“Yeah, I tried, but water doesn’t make it come off, it just spreads the stain,” Kaddar said. “Tried to wash it off in the toilet, the best I could when it was jammed packed with early morning workers.”

“Your cheek,” Daine gestured, passing him tissue paper. He turned to the mirror and grimaced, “No wonder he is so angry. I missed that in the toilet with the dim lighting and crowded conditions.”

“Numair?” Daine said and blushed. “Thinking that you were out dallying or something?”

“No,” Kaddar said, cleaning off the stain with the tissue. “Worse. He thinks I was dallying with you.”

“WITH ME?” Daine screeched.

Kaddar sighed patiently and turned her towards the mirror. “You look…. like you have been thoroughly kissed.” Daine turned a deep shade of red as she saw the hair that looked like a hand had run through it. Her lipstick was smeared and she looked hot and bothered (but it was from running! Not other exertions) with the first few buttons of her dress opened. He waved his arm, “The whole look, plus your unusual lipstick colour is on my shirt and you knew my name…”

“I knew things were going too well,” Daine mumbled and quickly tried to repair the damage.

“Pardon?” Kaddar said.

“Ah nothing, just welcome to my life.” Daine sighed and thought, ‘He can’t be that angry right? I mean, even if he really thought I dallied around before coming to work, that’s my own private life. Wouldn’t affect him one bit since he IS the King of Dalliance. As long as I work hard and explain things, he would return back to normal.’

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Conference Room…

“I told you so,” Kaddar mumbled to Daine under her breath when the meeting stopped for a break. Numair had strode out of the room without looking at either at them.

“I’m sorry,” Daine said helplessly.

“No worries, I said it was alright.” Kaddar patted her hand. “He was professional. Civil.”

“Yeah,” Daine sighed, “Very very civil and very cold too.”

“Anyway,” Kaddar said. “My friend is rushing up with a new shirt so I can change during the break.”

Daine gazed thoughtfully at Kaddar, thinking ‘I better explain to Numair what happened. Maybe he has a no dallying around policy during this period. After all, I don’t quite recall him dallying around since I started work, especially since I was told to reject all social calls and Varice is happily away on holiday. It’s fine and well if he’s only angry at me, but he appears mad at Kaddar as well. Argh! Darn cheap lipstick!’ At least the stain on Kaddar’s shirt didn’t look like lip marks, it was a splotch of colour on the collar as it had spread with the use of water. She stood up, “I will be back.”

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Onua’s Office…

Alanna stared at Onua over their daily cup of coffee. “I am NOT double-dating both of them. Double-dating implies boyfriends and they are not my boyfriends.”

Onua raised an eyebrow, “Well, they want to be. You yourself are not sure whether they are more than friends.”

“Ha,” Alanna snorted. “Both of them are just flirting around for fun. We’re friends-”

“Friends do not kiss one another,” Onua interrupted.

“I did not kiss them,” Allan protested.

“Yeah, yeah,” Onua said. “They kiss you, or at least Jon tried, and George succeeded. They should really exchange pointers. Both are not bad catches really, just choose one.”

“Argh!” Alanna said, and busied herself with drinking her coffee.

“You can’t run away from it,” Onua advised patiently. “You can’t stand guys who lead girls on and you are leading them on…”

“No I am not!” Alanna said firmly. “I never ever said I am interested in them nor offered anything that was not platonic.”

“Yeah, well, your behaviour is omission. You are not telling them you are not interested, you are not telling them to back off when their behaviour becomes more than just platonic,” Onua responded. “You are keeping their hopes up my dear, just by doing nothing.”

Alanna hid her red face behind her cup.

“So are you interested in them at all?” Onua asked, kicking Alanna in the leg.

“Oww,” Alanna yelped. “Alright alright, I must admit I have slight interest in both of them.”

“So, which one interest you more? They are pretty different men you know,” Onua said, “So it shouldn’t be that much of a problem. Which type do you prefer?”

Alanna sighed and leaned back on her chair. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s like… high school… Jon is the most popular guy in school, your crush, the one that sends you swooning. Life with him is exciting, fun, full of highs. While George is like your constant guy buddy who has been by your side in high school, he is alright. You feel like, he’s home, and you’re absolutely feel comfortable with him. But, he is just missing that slightly dangerous edge sort of thing.”

Onua grinned, “Just what I thought.”

Alanna rolled her eyes, “I mean, Jon is like, the grand love of your life kind of thing which you could dream of when you are young. But, heck, when you grow up, realistically, you know George is a better choice. The kind of guy you build your home with and have forever with. I honestly don’t know if Jon is looking at me seriously at all, he changes women like clothes. I’m not that cheerleading queen in high school and severely doubt whether I can sustain his attention for long. I don’t like this… pressure I sort of feel when I am with Jon, to be different and interesting from other girls. With George, I’m afraid it’ll be bland. Besides, he has to grapple with the whole my income and job is better than him. Guys have such an ego problem over that.”

“Well, you got time to think about who you want to bring with you to the charity ball,” Onua said in a sing-song voice.

“Ah shuddup,” Alanna groaned. “I think I will just go solo. Solves the problem.”

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Daine opened the conference room and went into a deep blush to see a muscular back. Kaddar turned around and finished removing his shirt. “Ah, my friend came with the new shirt,” he gestured at the new shirt on the table.

Daine fought from blushing, he had a drool worthy body. “Well, I explained things to Numair,” she said and averted her gaze to out of the window, “so things should be ok I think.” She had found Numair in the nearby pantry, sitting thoughtfully in an armchair. He was cold and civil to her, barely looking at her. However, at the end of her story, with her pacing around and gesturing, he had suddenly grabbed her hand when she passed him in her mid-pacing. She lost her balance, and put her hand on his chest to prevent from falling.

Numair looked into her eyes and said, “Don’t worry, I believe you.” She felt so relieved and smiled. His face was so close to hers… his eyes started to have this dangerous light, then he suddenly pushed her away. She stammered an apology and escaped the room to find Kaddar. Kaddar who was distractingly topless.

Kaddar grinned, “Are you blushing? That’s so cute.”

“Mr. Iliniat, you are NOT paid to flirt,” Numair’s voice boomed harshly. “Stop harassing my secretary and put on your shirt!”

Daine thought she must have levitated for Kaddar did, and she could not bring herself to look at Numair. Her face was burning red and she quickly took her seat as the others started to file in. A senior scientist apologised profusely for Kaddar’s conduct and Numair looked hardly appeased. Daine closed her eyes and barely restrained herself from groaning, ‘I soo… want the ground to open up and swallow me now…’

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

What are you looking at? (One-shot)

2006-08-01T10:18:00.000-07:00

I know, such a lame title, but I can't think of anything better. Fast dribble for fun!! Fluff fluff fluff. Implied anyway.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"What are you looking at?" Daine asked Alanna curiously. "In fact," Daine threw her hands up in the air in puzzlement. "Why has everyone been looking at me weirdly the whole day? I don't recall doing anything particularly scandalous of something that attracts attention the whole day..."

"Well..." Alanna said dryly. "It's not a matter of what you were doing in the day, but rather, what you did at NIGHT..."

"Last night?" Daine repeated, turning a deep crimson red. "How did they..."

Alanna turned Daine towards a nearby mirror. Daine peered at her image, "There's nothing on my face..."

"No, look lower," Alanna commanded and Daine dropped her gaze to her neck...

"I am SO going to kill Numair for leaving lovebites on my neck!" Daine shrieked.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

"What are you looking at?" Daine demanded, grabbing Alanna by the arm and hauling her to a corner. "It's been weeks since I had marks on my neck and yet everyone is looking at me weirdly again! I was thrown out of bed at the crack of dawn to deal with some wyverns. I know I don't look my best when dragged out of bed, but still..."

"Well..." Alanna said dryly. "It's not a matter of you being dragged out of bed, but WHOSE bed...""

"WHOSE bed?" Daine repeated, her cheeks burning bright red.

Alanna turned Daine towards a nearby shield hanging on the wall that was sufficiently polished to allow one to see one's reflection. Daine scrutinised her image and put her hands on her hips, "There's nothing on my face nor my neck..."

"No," Alanna interrupted. "Lower. You're wearing Numair's shirt."

Love for Sale - Part 2 (Cont'd)

2006-07-31T10:06:00.000-07:00

This is a continuation of LFS Part 2. Decided to throw this extra bit for extra fluff. Part 3 will probably be on the actual party...

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Arram had insisted quite strongly on seeing my house. After all, having allegedly “dated” for more than six months, it would be a bit queer to have not seen my humble abode. He also added with a professional air that a person’s home tells one most about him. I shuddered at that as the most gracious compliment that could be paid to my most humble home was that it was “cosy”. A more realistic description would be that it was a step away from being a slum.

Although I had known Arram for only three weeks, I knew he was downright stubborn when he put his mind to it. No doubt if I didn’t invite him over, he would probably charm my landlady and pop himself into my home uninvited. Ha. Just like the day after I went on the shopping spree, I had congratulated myself over lunch that I had successfully avoided his calls. When lo and behold, he popped up to eat with me. I gave him some story that I could not leave the shop unattended. (Actually, the shop normally was shut during lunch time, but since I stuck around, it just sort of stayed open anyway). He went to the nearest deli, a rather pretentious little place that passed off plain sandwiches as gourmet food by simply slapping fanciful French names on their sandwiches. I had mentally winced at such an unnecessary expense, so I was nicer to him during lunch. I quickly shooed him away when lunch time ended, as I was not too keen on my colleagues seeing him. My family, I probably won’t have to see them again after retrieving my inheritance. Colleagues well, they are worse than your family. You are forced to not only see them everyday, but you have to be at least civil to them. Teasing about Arram from them, I could not handle. I think they will probably think I’m flirting with a client or something. Because seriously, I know I am not a hag, but I’m certainly not sparkling in personality or looks to attract such a looker like Arram.

Hmm… well, it’s better to give him a grand tour of my one-room apartment, than to face the danger of being mugged on his way there. No kidding. I don’t exactly live in the safest neighbourhoods on earth. It had a cheap rent because it was on the fringe of one of the dodgy areas in the city. Which could explain why we had a beautiful park nearby and not one sensible soul would go into it. Stabbings and sexual crimes were not uncommonly committed in the park. Although he had wanted to send me home before, I had adamantly refused and managed to slip away to the maze of underground trains before he could press the matter further.

I am now stomping to my house, a rather long way to avoid cutting through the notorious park and wondering why I’m feeling quite resentful about Arram who was obediently trailing behind me with a mouth-watering box of pizza. He insisted on treating since it was sort of a house warming gift. Huh… I wonder how he would feel, sitting in my cramped one room apartment. He did know where I stayed, but yet I felt sufficiently embarrassed not to look at his face. I have no idea the level of income he enjoyed or suffered, but for anyone else who was NOT on the low rungs of society, my home would be quite a shock. Culture shock really. I smiled to myself as I imagined him swooning. I hope he did not squeal at the sight of insects.

He kept his silence as I unlocked the main door. The “lobby” was at least presentable although the paint was peeling and the carvings at the top of the wall were grey with dust. The building was a relic from the past, it used to be a “mansion” (in terms of the old days) before my landlord converted it into an apartment building. In fact, part of this “dodgy” area used to be a prime area where the rich lived. Of course, that was wayyy back in the sixties. However, naturally, as incomes, technology and construction improved, the rich started to move to a new area to build more luxurious homes. Houses in the olden days were rather small (and naturally the land it stood on). So moving to a new area to rebuild allowed the rich to increase their land area and save on cost of demolishing. This resulted in a misleadingly grand spiral staircase that led to the various rooms. The rooms were converted into “apartments”, naturally, no attaching toilet. One had to troop to the common toilet in order to carry out one’s daily absolutions. There was a common kitchen on the first floor. However, as soon as I could, I bought my own refrigerator (since people kept stealing my food) and microwave. So I hardly used the kitchen at all. We climbed to the second top floor and I unlocked the door to let Arram in. I was grateful for small mercies that at least my neighbour had not gotten drunk and vomited or peed at the corridor last night.

We entered my apartment, and I felt Arram’s presence looming behind me. I busied myself taking off my shoes and dragging my one and only table near the bed. “Cosy,” Arram said.

I knew that was coming. Ah well. Can’t fault him for lack of words. If it wasn’t cosy, it would be homely. Two standard compliments that people could think of without outrightly lying through their teeth. I took off my coat and placed a quarter into a jar of coins.

I pulled my one and only table that I had happily bought at a thrift shop away from the wall and against my bed. Woo hoo, a total distance of an optimistic estimation of three feet. I sat on the edge of the bed and gestured to my one and only chair, “Come, sit sit.”

After placing the pizza on the table, Arram politely hung his coat on the chair and sat on it. I opened the box and inhaled the heavenly aroma.

“So what is the jar of coins for?” Arram asked.

I took a piece of pizza and answered distractedly, “Hmm? Oh! My chocolate jar. No matter how tight the budget is, I will always, always but in a quarter in the jar every day. So when there’s enough in the jar, I will buy chocolate. It’s a strong test of my will to wait until I can afford a bigger quantity of chocolate before buying. It’s normally cheaper if I buy 1kg rather than 250g bars.”

“I see…” Arram responded, there was a strange tone in his voice and I looked up to him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m talking with my mouth full, but it’s been months since I ate pizza from JX!” I exclaimed, attributing his slow response to him trying to decipher what I was trying to say. “Anyway, I’ve managed to secure the aeroplane tickets to France. There, we will have to take a bus to the boat jetty, followed by a boat ride to the private island. I know the flight is going to be at the unholy hour of 4am, but we have to be very particular about timing. The boat only comes on Friday at 2pm but if we reach France too early, we will be stranded without accommodation. There are no public boats or services that go to that island, my step mom had to charter the boat to ferry guests. Well, more of to ferry servants since her guests are swanky enough to own their own yacht or charter their own boats.”

Arram nodded, eating his own slice of pizza. With that settled, we moved on to other conversational topics. Arram was amused and impressed that I did not watch television at all, but my entertainment was restricted to library books which I often borrowed on my way home from work. Looking at him, comfortably seated on the chair, his knees bumping mine. I felt that strange sense of resentment again, at him looking oh-so-perfect in my apartment. Looking like he belonged.

Before he left, he suddenly squeezed me tight and brushed his lips on top of my head, whispering, “Thank you for the chocolate.” I waved him off jokingly, but stared at him silently as he walked down the stairs.

It suddenly struck me why I felt so resentful.

I knew so little about him but yet he knew so much about me. To him, I was probably a job. But to me… he had somehow begun to creep into my heart. Little by little.

Slowly, but surely.

Love for Sale - Part 2: Getting Your Money's Worth

2006-07-27T10:43:00.002-07:00

Sample of Part 2 of LFS. I'm now saying all these LFS updates are samples because I don't know whether I will ultimately edit or discard these parts for the final version. As usual, my formatting is off, so please note that 'xxx' is thoughts while "yyyy" is speech. Anyway, I'm now off to write BSNS. Don't know if I can finish an update for that by this weekend, but will see.

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I sighed, leaning against the lamppost. Trying to look as if I had all the time in the world and wasn’t feeling at all awkward that I was standing. Alone. Surrounded by couples and gaggles of friends sauntering or giggling by. No worries, I have perfected that to an art. Somehow, people tend to feel a tad embarrassed being caught alone. Especially during meal time. Perhaps it seems to present a pathetic picture, of a lone person eating by himself, staring across vacantly at the empty seat across him. Most would busy themselves reading some material, like they were busy, busy people. No time to talk, just eat. Or determinedly concentrate on their food, like it would suddenly sprout legs and run off. I, well, I have pretty much resigned myself to singlehood and always had lunch by myself during work.

At outside locations with clients, it was not so bad because they were obliged to eat with me. Or at least I had photographers or assistants to eat with. At work, well, it was just me, the supervisor, an elderly receptionist cum secretary and another assistant. The elderly receptionist viewed everyone like they were bugs and happily met up with similar minded people for lunch from nearby establishments. The other assistant, well, she met up with her husband everyday for lunch. It worked out pretty fine because I often brought my own lunch from home to save money. So I ate by myself in the shop and manned the desk. I didn’t cower behind the desk nor hide in some obscure corner. No, I perfected the art of people watching. Ha, you watch me eat alone, I watch you prance by.

A warm hand slid into mine and lips brushed against my hair. I stopped myself from turning around and kicking the person in the groin. Something I would definitely have done two weeks ago, but I knew it was just Arram and his “method acting”. I had protested against such physical familiarity, but he told me he was a method actor and I better get used to him. It was hardly convincing if at the gathering we stood politely apart like strangers. Particularly since I haven’t been attached before. A comment that stunned him for a few moments. Yes, I know. It is normal to be single, but never been in a relationship before? I guess I’m like the last vestal virgin on earth nearing her thirties.

Arram really showed me the benefits of having a significant other. He was a terrific listener and always quietly supportive and encouraging although he first went into shark-ish mode (as he had earlier put it), in first interrogating me about my problem then giving an outline of my options. After that, he would settle down amiably to listen to my bitching and whining, he had the listening down to pat. He didn’t just go “uh-huh” or nod distractedly at intervals. He REALLY listened. His whole body language screamed that he was focusing his attention on you and he made appropriate comments from time to time. Goodness, he should be a physiologist! Somehow, we just clicked. We talked and talked about varied and random stuff.

The physical side. Well, no, there is no lust involved, no doubt because he viewed me as a client and the legal penalties hanging over our heads. I vaguely knew that couples made out and some even went further. But what I didn’t know was the casual touches. I’m not talking about holding hands and such, although yes, there was that. But it was in the placing of the hand on the arm to catch one’s attention, or the tender brush of fingers across the cheek. He made my spine tingle, just by placing a friendly hand on my shoulder when he looked at what I was reading. I guess he was a rather affectionate man, or role-playing as one. For every time he met me, he at least touched me once. I didn’t realize how touching someone’s hair can feel so intimate! It was not something I could protest against, but yet, it felt more intimate than him actually putting his hand on my ass. Although I know I would undoubtedly slap him on the face if he did that…

“Sorry dear, I was running late,” Arram said, interrupting my thoughts, gently tugging me along. “It’s a pity you don’t have a hand phone.”

“Yes, yes,” I said. “Many people have remarked on it. Well, the good thing about NOT having a hand phone is that people are forced to keep appointments and be punctual. Secondly, my time is MY time. No calls from clients or pesky bosses.” ‘I also can’t afford it,’ I added mentally in my head, ‘and besides, nobody would really call me. My family? Hah. Friends? Bleh. Most likely the only calls are from bosses and clients.’

I looked up at him, he looked rather stressed today. I knew he had a day job probably, since he was slipped that he was not doing this full time. But I wasn’t quite sure what he did. “So how’s work today?”

He squeezed my hand gently, “Pretty tough. Had to deal with some difficult people today. Some problems arose.”

“Well, whenever I have a bad day, what cheers me up is chocolate,” I advised sagely and dug out my precious bar of milk chocolate.

I gave it to him, he remarked, “Thank you very much.”

“My rare indulgence,” I smiled at him. “You can’t stinge on that. I feel rather like Charlie in Charlie & the Chocolate Factory. Nibbling and coveting every last bite and lick.”

I stiffened as he rubbed his nose against my hair. “I will treasure it. This would be the first time anyone gave me a chocolate bar.” He seemed to like how I smell, or it was all part of the besotted fiancée act.

I cleared my throat, feeling my face burn with embarrassment and pleasure at his delight. “You don’t really have to meet me everyday you know, I could help cover for you if Onua asks? I think this is really going beyond and above duty.”

He grinned at me, “Don’t be silly dear, you will wither away without my presence. Thank you, but no, I insist we see each other on a daily basis. After all, we are squeezing together half a year’s acquaintance into just less than a month. Anyway, tomorrow I don’t think I can meet you for dinner, but I can meet you for lunch?”

Although I had only known him for two weeks, I knew he could be tenacious and stubborn when he decided to stand his ground. “Hmm… Well, thank you for bringing me to your friend’s shop,” I said, deciding to press my point at another more opportune time to my advantage. If I avoid arranging a meeting for tomorrow, he would be trapped into waiting till I was at work when I can be contacted. There, I could ignore his calls at my leisure. “I am so relieved that she sells designer clothing at lower prices! How is that possible?”

“She basically sells authentic factory over-runs. Designer clothing tends to be sold only in limited quantities, so if there is more clothing than desired, they would normally be discarded as factory over-runs. So she takes these over-runs and sells them at great discounts. Of course they are only available in limited sizes.” Arram explained patiently to Daine. “It’s by appointment only, since this is just a side-line for her. In fact, we’re going to her house.”

He led me to this rather posh looking building and took the elevator. “Wow,” I said. “Her day job must be pretty high-paying or her husband must be rich.”

“She gets by,” he grinned at me before the elevator doors opened. “I told her roughly your measurements, colouring and what you are looking for, so that she could look through the stock and bring out what is more appropriate for you. It is not like a normal store where all the clothing is hung out. There isn’t enough space for that. She will just bring out what is relevant or the catalogue and you can choose at your leisure.”

“Thanks for accompanying me,” I said with a smile. “You don’t have to. Males are supposedly infamous for hating to tag along in shopping expeditions.”

“This is not exactly a shopping expedition,” his finger tips brushed hair out of my eyes. “It will be pleasant to see you in something different. Besides, I believe she serves excellent refreshments.”

I wasn’t quite sure what I was expecting. A bored fashionasta housewife? But the elegant woman (Danielle) that greeted us at the door was a pleasant surprise. She seemed to remind me of a discipline mistress, yet she was friendly and treated us with diffidence. Wow, there was nothing like good service I say!

We were led into a big room that contained potted plants, mirrors and movable racks. A curtained off corner was the changing room I suppose. We sat on a small cluster of armchairs and sofas. She brought in a movable rack of clothing where I immediately stood up to look through. I was pretty much lost in such wealth of fabrics and designs. In the end, I asked her to recommend me what was appropriate for me and told her to try and a rough budget for each piece. Especially since none of the clothing had price tags on them. I tried on clothing and modeled them for Arram.

It was delicious fun!

I was gaping at the brands I was trying on. I thought I would never in my life be able to try on a coveted Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress. I mean, I was a normal person, who liked to look at expensive dresses on display or on magazines. But never, ever had the gumption to ever think I could one day walk into the store. Let alone try and buy these luxury items. Oh heck, the normal price of the dress was more than half a year’s salary! I lovingly touched the materials. They felt good, they felt well and I was so tempted to buy the whole lot! But practicality and budget reigned, and I carefully narrowed down to a few pieces. I am quite sure that Arram and Danielle must have politely ignored my drooling and how I lovingly stroked the material. Danielle placed the pieces I narrowed down into a separate movable rack on the left.

I also felt a surge of feminine pride in the way Arram looked at me. He looked pretty surprised at first, but gave me thoroughly appreciative glances. To be admired by a guy, let alone one of Arram’s attributes was a rare compliment. It was probably an once-in-a-lifetime experience. I am not ugly, sure, and can be passably pretty when made up. But I was not quite a head-turner. I must say, clothes really do change a mere pretty to beautiful. The colours and the cut of the clothes, can bring out a woman’s best. I had a toned body that I rarely showed off, being rather conservative in dressing. But being utterly seduced by the flattering image in the mirrors, I impulsively accepted the higher cuts and tighter fits.

Arram patiently waited while I hopped from foot to foot, pondering on what pieces to buy or discard. I was torn between purchasing the matching pants or skirt to the casual outfit I was getting. I muttered to myself, the skirt was pretty, showed off my legs, but the pants were more practical. I was more likely to use it after the weekend and give it more mileage than the skirt. But oh, I loved the asymmetrical cut of the skirt.

I didn’t realize I was muttering out loud when Arram interrupted me with “Why don’t you just get both?”

I looked at him, horrified, “BOTH? They cost $100 each. That’s two months worth of groceries!”

I guess I must have looked like he just asked me to give him my first born child, he flicked his faze at Danielle who laughingly stepped forward and offered to throw in the pants for free, since I had purchased quite a bit. I didn’t look the gift horse in the mouth and that was how it was settled. Although I did wonder at the look he gave Danielle, it wasn’t a pleading or beseeching look, I would interpret it more of, some sort of expectant look for her to do SOMETHING… and she had obediently took the hint… perhaps they had some history, arrangement or connection I was ignorant of?

Love for Sale - Part 1:What Money Can Buy

2006-07-23T09:47:00.000-07:00

LOVE FOR SALE

This idea struck me some time back and has been on the backburner. Well, here’s a sample of it. I think it would probably be made up of 4-5 parts. Stress on the word sample. Since know who knows when I would post or finish it. That’s why I post it on the blog rather than on ff.net. Knowing my lack of stamina, I don’t intend to make it that long hopefully. Feedback is welcomed!

I guess I would put it as K+ or T rating. Again, some formatting has been lost when I transferred it over from Microsoft word. So my bolds and italics and underlines are gone. But I guess the spirit of the story should still be there.

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PART 1: WHAT MONEY CAN BUY

I nervously fidgeted in my seat and restrained myself from checking the mirror one last time. No amount of finger-combing or smoothening of my shirt would make me look any better. All I would see in the mirror was a 27-year old woman with brown hair, blue-grey eyes and a stubborn chin. On a good day, I reckon my hair was smoky brown, coupled with captivating blue-grey eyes fringed with thick extravagant eyelashes and soft kissable lips. On a bad day, I thought myself as mud-coloured hair, blood-shot eyes with a glaring stubborn chin. But I should look passably acceptable today since I took special pains to look professional. A professional negotiating a normal business transaction. This is business Daine, business. No need to be nervous. It is a n-o-r-m-a-l b-u-s-i-n-e-s-s transaction. Money will change hands for the receipt of services.

Right, keep this up Daine and you will soon be able to also convince yourself that you are the Queen of England.

I sighed and restrained my racking my hand through my hair that I had painstakingly tied into a bun. I had long thick wavy hair that could be positively frightful on bad hair days and a nightmare to my hairdresser. The moment I could save enough money, I will splurge it on rebonding my hair. That would be a long distant future dream as my savings will be wiped out for this business transaction. Packed lunches and dinners was the way to go for the next year or so.

My eyes were glued on the door of the restaurant. I normally do not dine in restaurants as they were out of my normal budget range, but I suppose to put a professional spin to our association, I was willing to splurge a bit. Besides, it would be quite hard to negotiate in the noisy fast food places or diners I frequented.

I wondered how he would look like, though he was supposed to be above average looks. But looks can be pretty subjective. (Like Perrin. Though females swarmed to Perrin, I found him personally repugnant and rather unattractive with his affected attitude. I rested my head on my chin.)

Let me think, yes, he is supposed to be able to speak at least four different languages - including English, Italian, French (the language of lovvveee) and Japanese. He has to be well-versed in wines and golf. He must, must be extremely knowledgeable about stocks, business and finance. Good acting skills as well.

He has to pass off as my gorgeous and rich fiancée that is completely besotted with me.

Shocker ain’t it? I think my grandmother would roll in her grave if she knew of it. Nice girls like me didn’t hire men to act as a gorgeous and rich fiancée. In the old days, as she would say, men like that came falling for us. They were tripping all over her feet, she would say. Indeed, they did and she landed a prime catch. He was of old money, passed down from generation to generation. Naturally, it fell to my father’s lap as the only son. He married his childhood sweetheart (my mom) and they had me. She died at my birth as she was anemic and lost too much blood. He re-married quickly after that to a typical trophy wife. He could have married a dumb blonde with a big chest and hair. No, of course he didn’t, though my step-sister was like that. He married a cunning woman by the name of Sherry, who was determined to climb up in the world using her best assets – her looks. Her fallback career should be an actress. She knew how to act, how to present herself to selected audiences. She put on the best show for my father and society. But behind closed doors, she was an abusive tyrant. She hated the sight of me as I was a reminder of my mother who was my father’s first love. I don’t know if my father overlooked my stepmother’s abusive rages thrown at me because he was taken in by her act or perhaps he viewed me as the cause of my mother’s death. She enjoyed physically and emotionally abusing me – finding great pleasure in twisting her verbal danger into my heart. It came to a point where I was blamed for all sort of mischief, my “friends” soon grew cold, their mothers strongly discouraging of any association with me. In fact, they praised my stepmother as an epitome of motherly kindness for putting up wit an incorrigible ingrate like me.

Before she passed away, my grandmother sheltered me from my stepmother and I at least had a tolerable childhood. She stood up for me against my stepmother and made my father pay closer attention to my interactions with my stepmother. This in return made my stepmother more incensed in her twisted interpretation that I held sway over my father and not her. My mere presence in the house, the equal treatment I received on par with the children she had with my father was perceived as making a mockery of her authority and position in his heart. She was a strangely insecure creature who never liked being second best and took pains to eliminate any possible threats.

The moment I was old enough, I left, with just a suitcase and most of my inheritance behind.

Now I have to return to take it back.

It was not only the material worth of the property that led me back. No, it was the memories and sentimentality that drew me. I felt a strong loyalty to my mother, having heard so many stories about my beloved mother from my grandmother. In particular, the preparations my mother made in case she did not survive her pregnancy to bring me up as my mother. Her doctor had strongly advised her against going ahead with the pregnancy with her condition, but she desperately wanted a child. While praying for the best, she decided to make preparations in case I outlived her. According to my grandmother, she kept a diary of her thoughts and well-wishes, to be passed to me when I turned twenty-one. In addition, as it was a common practice in the higher rungs of society for mothers to pass their jewellery to their daughters upon their twenty-first birthday, my mother especially commissioned for a set of jewellery. It was paid with the fruits of her hard labour at the university as a professor. (Unlike my stepmother, she had stubbornly held on to her independence and career).

Yes, my twenty-first birthday had long gone and passed, but the memories of what my grandmother told me remained. My grandmother never mentioned to me how I was to find these things as I guess she assumed that she would be alive on my twenty-first birthday to hand them to me. Finally, to my surprise and pleasure, my stepmother had imperiously sent me a letter that she had found these items and I was to come for a weekend at the villa in France. She was having a garden party for my younger step-sister, Veronica.

If I recall correctly, Veronica is supposed to be having this “coming-out” ball somewhat soon. So this garden party is probably going to be pretty extravagant and swanky. An excellent opportunity to put me down, as usual.

A good hint of that was my telephone conversation with Sherry. She gave a “generous” offer to house me at the villa, but absolutely no offer of transportation. I guess she would enjoy me asking her whether she could arrange for transportation and for her to superciliously act like I was asking her for her kidney. Indeed it was quite near the truth as I had a paltry salary working at a bridal shop. But I had quite a bit of savings and took great pleasure to ask her for directions. She took me aback with her patronizing question of “So, is your boyfriend coming along with you as a companion to the party or do I have to help you source for some male companionship?” Although I was miserably single all my life, I impetuously replied that I did not, and my fiancée would have insisted on accompanying me to a foreign place anyway. After putting down the telephone and getting over the initial euphoria of having bettered my stepmother, I realized the big hole I had dug myself into.

Well, we Sarrasris swim and don’t sink. I decided to make the best of it. Why not go all the way? Why not flaunt how utterly happy I am and my fabulous fiancée? It was apparent that I could not rely on any male friends or acquaintances to help. I hardly interacted with people, let alone guys. Most if not all my friends were females. People had shunned me when I was in school, no thanks to my stepmother’s schemes. I worked in a bridal shop which was HARDLY the place to meet eligible guys. They were happily engaged to be married and even if they hit on me, I wouldn’t be tempted. Fidelity is a huge MUST my future spouse must have. It was a good break for me, I felt. At the ripe age of twenty-seven, I knew that I was probably going to remain a spinster. To be realistic, all the good guys are taken and it was not like I was someone who had many eligible guys at her disposal. Being worked dog tired at the bridal shop day in and out made it unlikely I would run into any guy. Even if I did run into one, would he be interested in me? This love thing was a lot more difficult than I had thought when I was a naïve child, dreaming of my prince charming. Most couples I know met when they were in university and not at work. Dealing with all the giddily happy couples everyday was like having salt rubbed into the wound that I was not going to enjoy the love and comfort of anyone, let alone a man. The last person who loved me was my grandmother, who passed away seventeen years ago.

“Miss Sarrasri?” a gently voice broke into my reverie. I looked up into what has to be the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. I blinked through a sheen of tears that I was not aware that were in my eyes. He was tall, dark and handsome. No kidding. REALLY.

Tall, dark and handsome.

He looked rather rakish, with his longish black hair and dark eyes. From the way he filled out his shirt, I could tell that he probably had a good built. No slouch either, judging by a discreet glance at his stomach. He was wearing a charcoal suit, with a striped shirt. No tie though, and the first few buttons of his shirt was casually open.

I quickly got to my feet, “Please sit, you must be Mr Draper.”

“Call me Arram,” Arram said and took a seat opposite me. An efficient métier appeared at his elbow and asked if he would like a drink. I watched with surprise and pleasure as he expertly ordered wine. It was not the typical asking of the métier “what do you recommend?”, acting all ponderous and going “yes, very good” in that all so pretentious way. He did it in a rather brisk and decisive manner, the métier offered a certain vintage of 1999, Arram remarked it was not a very good year for the French wines and asked for other alternatives. Upon realizing he was dealing with a master, the métier promptly carted out the best.

Arram looked at me and grinned. Argh, he had such a heartbreaking smile! He raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing, just quite impressed by your knowledge of wines,” I said promptly, although mentally adding in my head ‘And I’m so impressed by your drool worthy ass…’

“But of course,” Arram replied, leaning forward. “You did specifically request that I had adequate expertise in this area.” His cufflinks discreetly winked at me. He did look quite polished and rich.

“Is this your best suit?” I asked. “It looks rather well-tailored and expensive. You can use it again for the garden party. I can pay for dry cleaning if it gets dirty, but I do think we must put an impressive showing for it.”

He looked very amused at some reason and not at all offended. “Don’t worry, I have other well-tailored suits. Goes with the profession,” he responded, grinning. “Now then,” he took out some papers and a pen from a briefcase. Even the pen looked expensive, I blinked, it was a Shaeffer. Boy, he must take this job seriously, or was it higher paying than I had expected? Better not, I am already busting my budget on this little visit to my step-mom. “I am from Onua’s Agency. I believe you called last week regarding a last minute request for a companion to accompany you to a garden party in France?”

I clasped my hands under the table, I tended to fidget when I get nervous. “Yes, I did.”

“I have full authority from Ms. Onua Chamtong to negotiate and close or reject this deal. If we find that we do not suit during our discussions, I will get back to Onua who will either find you another person or re-negotiate,” Arram said and shuffled the papers. He gave a brief description of what I requested and what qualities he possessed that satisfied that. I quizzed him briefly about his knowledge and was deeply impressed. I complimented that that must be quite a book he must have been reading to know so much and he gave me an amused reply that he dabbled a bit in shares.

“Alright then, fill me in with the problem and what you want me to do,” Arram said, his pen poised to make notes.

‘Oh goodness Daine, how on earth to tell him? Your story is fit for a soap opera. It sounds so incredulous, would he even believe me if I told him?’ I thought and took a deep breath. “Well, a very, very summarized version is that my stepmother invited me to a weekend and garden party in France held for the benefit of my stepsister. I just need you to pose as my fiancée.”

He leaned back in his chair and quoted me from my conversation with Onua, “A filthy rich and besotted fiancée.”

“Yes,” I said patiently, “A filthy rich and besotted fiancée. You have an excellent memory.”

“Stepmother can’t wait to hold her grandchildren?” He asked very mildly, his eyes intent on my face.

I just took the bait, hook, line and sinker. I turned a dull red and snorted, “Ha. I will strike the lottery if that ever happened. No,” I shook my head and said bitterly, “She… dislikes me… to put it mildly.”

“So,” Arram responded, tapping his finger thoughtfully on his table. “Your stepmother married your father, they had kids. Your father neglected you, your stepmother mistreats you and you run out of there as soon as you can. So you’re going back to rub it in their face that you are doing better than they had expected?”

I gaped and snapped, “And how do you deduce that Sherlock Holmes?”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled disarmingly at me, “From the basic facts that are presented to me. Your family is apparently rich enough to have a villa in France. However, looking at your form, you live in the poorer side of town and work as an assistant to a bridal shop. This means that you are choosing to live independently without any kind of assistance from your family. It is not a simple getting out from smothering love situation judging by your bitterness and your choice of job and company. My guess would be that you took the position on out of desperation than choice. You also don’t seem to be the rebel trying to get out of the family’s grasp as a bridal shop assistant is hardly a scandalous or rebellious kind of thing to do.”

Irritated, I leaned by in my chair and folded my arms slowly. “Think you’re so smart Sherlock?”

He looked at me in the eye, “Am I off mark? I am an excellent judge of human nature. No point polishing it up for me as when and if I do go with you to the villa, I will soon be in the thick of it all. Nothing is quite as dirty and complicated as family politics.”

‘Fine, so he wants me to lay out all my cards on the table,’ I thought angrily, my eyes blazing at him. “Does Onua know you are quite bad at handling clients? Or is your day job a detective that requires you to interrogate people out of habit?”

To my surprise, he laughed and grinned, “No dear, I do apologise if I came off to shark-ish. I have been told by tougher negotiators than you that they quiver and try to hide when they find out they have to face me. But I do like us to have an open relationship and have everything sorted out. I am not someone who will plunge into something without all the facts at hand.”

I unfolded my arms, “This is difficult as it is already. I don’t often do this you know. This is my first,” I gestured about, “time doing this sort of transaction.”

He caught my hand and brought it down to the table, gently rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I know,” he said soothingly, “So tell me everything. You are the client after all, so I am obliged to take your side no matter what.”

“Well,” I said and leaned back. It has been sometime since someone actually wanted to listen to what I wanted to say. I didn’t really have any friends nor time for them. My life was just made out of acquaintances, people who walked in and out of my life. I don’t know if it was the wine or it was just him but everything just spilled out. I even showed him an old burn scar I had received from my stepmother’s cigarette at my elbow. He hissed in sympathy and his eyes took on a hard look.

At the end of it, he patted my hand and said, “Sounds like Cinderella.”

I shrugged and said depreciatingly, “Yeah well, unlike Cinderella, we know prince charming on a white horse don’t exist nowadays. Let alone for girls like me.” I gave a bitter laugh. “Well, I wish I could be like the girls in the stories, so pure and forgiving and sooo nice. Be a better person and just forgive and forget. I should be more mature and ignore all my stepmother’s barbs and taunts.” I shook my head, and tried to say in a light tone, “Well then, that is where you come in, if you take the job that is.”

He looked at me with an enigmatic look in his eye, to my surprise and he raised my hand to his mouth and he brushed his lips across my knuckles, “I will accept my dear princess and with great pleasure.”

Our eyes locked for a long moment before the métier discreetly interrupted us, “Would you like to make your last order, madam, sir?”

Arram turned and grinned at him, “Of course, she has kindly agreed to be my wife.”

“Congratulations sir!” the métier said happily and sprouted some French to a passing waitress. We were presented with a complimentary round of champagne. I tried not to gape at Arram as he mischievously grinned at me. Arram thanked him graciously and the métier told us to keep us in mind when we hold the dinner.

I kicked him, “Arram.”

“Now dear,” Arram said, sipping the champagne. “Look a bit more happy. It’s no time like the present to start getting into character. You do know we have to meet up more regularly to interact so I can get a good feel of the role.”

“Meet up more regularly?” I echoed blankly. “Don’t you just turn up for the big day?”

“Nonsense,” Arram scolded gently. “I am a perfectionist and like to have a job well-done. How am I to be a besotted fiancée if I don’t even know your favourite things or cute habits?”

Hoo boy. “Why don’t I just type out a profile sheet?” I asked hopefully, thinking, ‘It’s already burning a hole in my pocket to buy the aeroplane tickets, his fees and presentable clothes.’

He shook his head, “That won’t do. We have to come up with how we first met, things like that. Oh yes, Onua asked if you need me to have any supporting relatives or friends? You know, if you want our ‘parents’ to meet up with each other and things like that?”

“No, no” I said, shaking my head slowly. This was getting out of control. “This is a one-off thing. I will probably not see them again in a long time after this gathering.” I grinned at him. “I will probably say I dumped you as you were oh so boring, or-” feeling a bit cheeky because of the alcohol, I added, “-how lousy you were in bed.”

His eyes blazed and burned with a dangerous exciting light. “Reallyy…” he drawled, “thousands disagree.”

I raised my eyebrow at him, “You are such an easy lay if that was true.”

He burst into laughter, “No no, I guess I deserved that. Well then.”

“We should negotiate cost,” I said firmly. “I have a strict budget to stick to, as you can tell. I have to pay for the plane tickets, my wardrobe for that gathering and such.”

“It is just the sum that Onua told you,” he said and pushed the contract towards me.

“Inclusive of all this extra meetings and such?” I asked, taking the contract.

“Yes,” he said. “Those are not counted as after all, it is just preparation for me to do a good job of it.”

“Well, this is the first time I have heard of this,” I murmured, scanning through the document.

“But this is your first time doing such a transaction,” he reminded me gently.

“Alright,” I said, reading through the terms and conditions. I noticed a clause with an asterix next to it and unconsciously read it out aloud, “This agency and its employees do not offer sexual services of any kind. Any action and propositions by any clients that go against this clause will be strictly dealt with that may result in termination and legal action.”

“Basically, no sex,” Arram helpfully interpreted. “There’s a company policy against employees getting involved with clients.”

I glared at him, well aware that I was blushing, “No worries, I will control myself and not molest you.” I signed the contract with flourish.

E-mail Exchange (One-shot)

2006-07-21T07:07:00.000-07:00

E-MAIL EXCHANGE

Another experimental one-shot. Story is made up of e-mail exchanges. It was a plot idea that I was thinking of using in Billionaire Scientist and his New Secretary (in another style and way though). However, by the time I worked through 3rd chapter of BSNS, I realised I had quite a number of plot lines to use and thought it would be too confusing to follow through all of them. Also, I felt that this plot line could stand well enough alone. Can't really think of a better title at the moment. XP Enjoy!

Tamora Pierce owns all! All e-mail addresses used are fictional and any similarity is just coincidence! I have no idea whether the e-mail addresses and symbols like @ will show up, but anyway, I think you can get the drift.

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Date: 6 August 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Heya Daine!

How's your first day? I'm sure that you'll like this temp job in filling in for Varice while she's overseas on some secret journalist assignment. She's been hot on doing some serious work after writing her regular column of "Ask Varice" for the past 5 years. I guess her whole blonde hair blue eyed female-in-distress does give the bimbotic impression. hahahaha...

Since you're in your third year of Journalism studies, you should find this job a piece of cake. It's no Putzlier Prize kind of writing, quite the reverse! The job's really easy, just help to sort and screen out the Ask Varice letters and e-mails. Pick some interesting ones and write responses to them. Then send to our editor Thayet for approval. Respond to any of her work e-mails. Act like Varice, so that it appears that she's still here. Can't have people getting whiff that she's off since she’s like some mini-celebrity of newspaper columns (especially with her scintillating relationships!). Wouldn’t want the media to dig up what she’s doing. Anyway, would you like to meet up for lunch?

Cheerios,
Onua

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Date: 6 August 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Dear Miss Chamtong,

Thank you very much for recommending me for this job! It was very nice of you to do so after Miri had only introduced me to you just last Monday. I didn't realise she went to the Write Place where she met you. I look forward to meeting you for lunch, just tell me what time is convenient for you.

Yours sincerely,
Daine

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Date: 6 August 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Hello Daine!

No worries! It was a pleasure to do so, looking at your impressive CV, you were a natural choice. Even if I did not know Miri and saw your CV alone, I would have recommended you anyway. Write Place is THE hippest coolest club to be at... hahahah... well, I'm sure you will go there sooner or later when you finish your postgraduate studies of Journalism. Most people involved in the media hang out there. I will bring you there some time. You MUST go. It is so interesting to see the celebrities try to drum up some publicity.

I'll come find you at your (Varice)'s office at 12! There's this great sandwich bar I know and it's two-for-the-price-of-one on Mondays!!

Cheerios,
Onua

P.S. call me Onua, I feel positively old when you call me Ms. Chamtong. ;) Our work environment is very relaxed at this magazine.

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Date: 7 August 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Hello Onua,

thanks for bringing me out for lunch yesterday! Anyway, can I ask you something? There's this Numair who wrote an e-mail to Varice, what should I do with it? I'm afraid I wasn't told how to address personal e-mails sent to Varice... just only the Ask Varice ones...

Thank you very much,
Daine

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Date: 7 August 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

OOooooohhhh lalalaaaaa.... Numair is THE Numair Salmalin. You know, the hot shot mega superstar. He sometimes comes to the Write Place, and I heard that he picked up Varice. She probably didn’t give him her personal contact details, so he’s trying his luck via the official e-mail. She's sooo his type. the blonde voluptuous kind. So I guess this is follow-up... hahhahahhaa... hmm... well, we can't let people know that Varice is gone... just reply to his e-mail? Sound intellectual or something, so that would turn him off... hahahaha... just kidding, Varice would kill me if she knew I suggested that, I think she has the hots for him as well. oh yes, before you leave from your temp job, please please clear all non-work e-mails (esp between you and me). wouldn't want her coming in and scratching my eyes out.

Cherrios,

Onua

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Date: 17 August 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

wooo hooo!! you must be some good power writer. What on earth did you talk to Numair about via Varice man... I can't believe he came up to us at the Write Place to ask about Varice... He recognises me from the magazine where Varice works due to my regular section on animals/pets. He looks hotter in person!!! -swoon- Anyway, if we go clubbing again, I insist you wear something sexier than sleeveless polo shirt and loose jeans. That's fine for office on casual Fridays, but not for clubbing. Let Big sister Onua teach you a thing or two about attracting the boys... hahahahaha...

Cheerios,

Onua

P.S. We can make you practice flirting skills on Neal the Office flirt. ;)

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Date: 17 August 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Hello Onua,

I flirt as well as a horse can dance. So no thanks! I originally thought of turning him off with some erudite economics talk (hee hee, I guess my previous degree in economics comes in handy). But I didn't know he is quite an intellectual person as well, very creative and brilliant. He makes quite a good part of his fortune with his excellent business acumen. So somehow we hit off over e-mail and have been exchanging e-mails...

Regards,

Daine

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Date: 27 August 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Oh my gosh… was that Numair Salmalin who appeared at our office and went to see you in Varice’s room?? All gorgeous six feet and five inches of him encased in Hugo Boss??? And was that yelling I heard coming from Varice’s room?

Tell tell!
Onua

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Date: 27 August 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Unfortunately… yes, that was him… I swear, I didn’t say or do anything to encourage him to come!! I stopped replying to his e-mails last last week or so. I nearly died and had a heart attack when he strode into my/Varice’s room! He wanted to see Varice and I just panicked. I told him that I was an intern attached to Varice and she just fell sick, so I was packing stuff for her. He insisted on driving me to Varice’s place, but I told him that she would not like it if I brought a stranger along. And he gave me this very… knowing look and said in a drawling voice that he knew Varice very well. I guess… it was the combination of his arrogance and my panicking that caused me to snap at him that just because he’s some hot shot star doesn’t mean he can throw his weight around. And that Varice was going to kill me if he followed and that this was an important internship and… I kinda teared at that point… Well, he left, that’s all that matters. I’m so dead….

Daine

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Date: 28 August 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Hi Onua,

Thanks for taking me for retail therapy to cheer me up… although I don’t think the clothes are really my type…

Daine

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Date: 28 August 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

No problem dearie, seems like you successfully fended him off since he has not appeared at our office again. Or he has decided to chase another skirt somewhere else!

Cheerios,
Onua

P.S. I insist you wear the clothes we bought on our next outing to the Write Place!

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Date: 29 August 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com, erudite @ arcane.com

Hi Onua,

He’s really not that bad a playboy as he seems, he’s quite sweet really. I think the media exaggerates his lifestyle. Well, I told him that I (Varice) is having chicken pox, so won’t be seeing anyone soon. I also told him not to find me at my apartment as I can do without fending off the gossips when I feel so unwell. He agreed not to see me, but insisted that we keep in touch by e-mail. I’m just going to fend him off via e-mail till Varice returns.

Daine

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Date: 1 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Hi Daine,

Do I spy a present from Numair Salmalin coming to your doorway?

Cheerios,
Onua

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Date: 1 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Don’t you have something better to do than to see what goes in and out? Well, he gave me (Varice) this thoughtful present to occupy myself while I was “sick”. It was this book I had mentioned I was interested in reading but was sold out in most of the bookstores. Fun stuff. Freakonomics. He had went overseas yesterday for some photo shoot and went to look for the book in the stores there.

Daine

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Date: 1 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

I’m a journalist dear, very little escapes my all-encompassing eye. Heh heh heh! He goes overseas and gets you a book? Humbug! I was expecting something pricier. Some bling bling.

Cheerios,
Onua

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Date: 1 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Hello Onua,

I think it’s really sweet actually, that he remembered such a small detail. Well, what happens if he really gives me bling bling huh? I have to declare it to the editor under the anti-corruption clause in our contract. What happens if he demands it back if the real Varice comes back and doesn’t want him?

Daine

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Date: 1 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Ha. As if Varice would pass up a prime article like him. I don’t think he would demand it back, he’s filthy rich. Some bling bling would scarcely dent his income. Well, you don’t have to declare if it’s a personal gift and he is approaching you in your personal capacity and NOT your professional capacity. –wag eyebrows-

Cheerios,
Onua

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Date: 1 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

You forget, he thinks he’s talking to Varice and not me. I rather not complicate things any further.

Daine

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Date: 2 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Based on our earlier conversations about the matter, you’re talking to him like Daine to Numair and not Varice to Numair right? I mean, I can’t imagine Varice knowing about the game theory. He likes you and not Varice really.

Cheerios,
Onua

P.S. You’re single dear. It’s damn hard to find good guys like him!

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Date: 2 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

He’s not mine. He’s Varice’s. Please, if he knows who’s really typing the e-mails, he would drop me like a hot potato. We are in completely different worlds and I can scarcely hold a candle to any female he gets acquainted with. End of subject. Let’s just get back to work.

Daine

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Date: 4 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Well Daine, er hum, I didn’t know you were so familiar with Mr Salmalin eh? Who was it I spy lip-locking with him in the Write Place last night? Poke poke. Spill spill.

Cheerios,
Onua

P.S. I told you the outfit we bought last time looked damn hot on you! Tried and tested!

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Date: 4 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

OH MY GOSH! You mean I kissed him?!?! I have such a bad bad hangover. I blame it on the amount of alcohol you pushed on me last night. I never could handle alcohol in such quantity, especially when mixed. Tequila shots and whiskey is such a fatal combination.

My memory is kind of fuzzy. I do remember him coming up and talking to me about Varice and how she is. I think I was giggling, oh hell, I hardly giggle, I’m not a giggly girl. I was drunk by then, I think I tripped and fell into his arms somehow and it’s all a blur.

Daine.

P.S. I’m never going to a club with you again…

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Date: 4 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Well, you looked like you were enjoying yourself with him. If he took it too far, I would have stopped him. ;) Anyway, he behaved himself and gently guided you to me. He flagged down the taxi to send us home and told me most sternly not to let you drink too much. Ooohh… maybe he has a taste for brunettes?

Cheerios,
Onua

P.S. Come on, you must admit that you had the once in a life opportunity to kiss the awfully skilled and famous Numair Salmalin… how was it? Huh huh?

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Date: 4 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Utter rubbish. He approached me because of Varice. I’m not blonde, voluptuous nor a successful newspaper columnist. I don’t think I can ever look him in the eye again… Thank goodness I will probably never see him again when my temp job ends! We move in completely different circles.

Daine

P.S. That is too childish for comment.

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Date: 15 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Hello dearie,

Let’s go out and party tonight at the Write Place! Since tomorrow is your last day of work! Time passes so fast… Harrumph, I can practically feel that my IQ is just going to drop by the replacement of you with Varice.

Cheerios,
Onua

P.S. Spoilsport! XP

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Date: 15 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Hi Onua,

Alright, for old time’s sake. You better not be trying to match-make me! I’ve told you many times that it’s just not going to happen between Numair and me. He’s too into Varice and he’s probably going to hate me for deceiving him like this. I’m still suffering from your unsuccessful attempts at mushing Neal and me together.

Daine

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Date: 16 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Heellllloooo Daine…

I didn’t know you were on first name basis with Numair Salmalin! What’s this that you meet him at some diner every morning? The way you snarled at him about having his toast plain and him brushing his fingers against your cheek and saying it’s a private joke?? Poke poke.

Cherrios,
Onua

P.S. Aww… but Neal is so cute!!

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Date: 16 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Good morning to you too,

Well, it just happens that both of us drop by the same diner opposite the Riders building every morning so I run into him. I go in for my tea and pastries, he apparently goes in there to muse. We talk about stuff, he probes me about Varice. The toast thing? Forget it, it’s a stupid lame joke. Besides, today I’m leaving and hand over the reigns to Varice. So that’s that.

Daine

P.S. So are puppies, but that doesn’t mean you keep every puppy you see.

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Date: 16 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: Varice @ riders.com

Are you alright? You seem to be tearing when I passed by your office today. How long has he been going to the diner and at what time?

Cheerios,
Onua

P.S. Chocolate is a sure cure! You can even have my secret stash of chocolate at work, just drop by my desk. It’s not the end, you can always see him outside of work!

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Date: 16 September 2006
From: Varice @ riders.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Hi Onua,

I’m NOT crying over him. Just memories, I was deleting all the e-mails to prepare for Varice’s return. Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer your secret stash, but I know if you don’t get your daily dose of chocolate, you turn into a meannn witch. Life goes on, it was fun while it lasted. Anyway, thank you very much for all your help and company at Riders!! I will miss you!!

No worries!
Daine

P.S. When he started appearing at the diner? I can’t quite remember, I think after he delivered the flowers to the office? He said he goes there to quietly plan and write this screenplay he’s planning to direct. What time? 8-ish am since I hop there to chow down some breakfast before I come to work.

P.P.S. Please don’t start staking out at the diner to get his autograph…

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Date: 17 September 2006
From: dainesarrasri @ hotmail.com
To: Onua @ riders.com
Hello Onua,

This is Daine! Here’s my personal e-mail address. Let’s meet up for lunch sometime!

Cheers,
Daine

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Date: 17 September 2006
From: Onua @ riders.com
To: dainesarrasri @ hotmail.com

Heya Daine!

I’m so happy to hear from you! Guess who just came into the office today? Numair came in with a huge bouquet of flowers, something about one month since the first day he met you? I think he was surprised to see Varice frankly. You know, I think he knows you are the one writing the e-mails because although Varice did do a good job of throwing herself at him, he asked where you were and walked off without a second look at her.

Besides, one month since he met you? That was when he came up to us in the Write Place where Varice was happily MIA. Come to think about it, I think one of the previous e-mails you sent me (29 August 2006 I think), had this other e-mail address erudite @ arcane.com? I thought it was your personal e-mail, but seems like it’s not. Moreover, I have passed by that diner every day for the past 7 years I’ve worked here and I have not once seen him in that diner before you did. I think he must be trying to create opportunities to see you, who the heck leisurely hangs around a run-down diner at 8-ish in the morning to write a play? I’m sure there must be some better diner nearer his workplace or home. He lives at the uptown area which is like 20 minutes drive to the office district we’re in.

Cheerios,
Onua

P.S. You better invite me to your wedding

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Date: 17 September 2006
From: dainesarrasri @ hotmail.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

OH MY GOSH!! THAT IS NUMAIR’S E-MAIL ADDRESS!! I must have been thinking of him and accidentally added in his e-mail address!!! I’m SOOO dead!! Hide me hide me!! Help help!!!!

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Date: 18 September 2006
From: erudite @ arcane.com
To: Onua @ riders.com

Hi Onua,

Thank you for telling me where to find Daine yesterday when I came to the office to look for her. I can’t believe she just left without telling me, but I guess she didn’t realize that I already knew who she really was. Although I dropped many hints in our e-mail communications that I would like her no matter who she is or how she looked like. Well, that’s my Daine, so unconscious of her own attractiveness. You’re right that she likes cats and she did promptly cuddle the stuffed kitten I bought her. Her bedroom seems to have every conceivable shape and size of stuffed toy cats.

Best Regards,
Numair
P.S. Your wedding invite is coming in the mail.

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For those who can’t catch the subtle hint. How did Numair know there is every conceivable shape and size of stuffed toy cats in Daine’s bedroom? I leave it to your own interpretation. Heh heh.

BSNS 3.1

2006-07-20T09:25:00.000-07:00

BILLIONAIRE SCIENTIST & HIS NEW SECRETARY

CHAPTER THREE

PART ONE

Hi anon camper! Hope your camp went fine! ^_~

As usual, when I copied and pasted this from microsoft word, the formatting went off, hence lack of italics and bolding. If you want original format, check out the post on ff.net. Anyway, this update was surprisingly more difficult to write than the usual and I hope it’s not too long-winded. It’s different from the snippet I had posted on the blog as I decided to beef it up and flesh out Numair’s character more.

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HIGH SOCIETY: GOSSIP COLUMN

Dear Readers,

This is not an advice column, but I have received a copious amount of mail concerning personal problems and anecdotes. An interesting observation I have made from the common men and celebrities is that no matter how much we may have gone through in life we will always remember the FIRST.

The First will be special.

The First will be treasured and engraved in our memories.

After the First, the Second, the Third, just simply pales into the distance, a vague memory. Ask anyone, when was the first time they kissed, they can probably recall with great fondness perhaps and regale with greater detail than necessary. Ask them about the second, third, one will often be rewarded with a sheepish “I can’t remember”, or “I think it was…”. This First label is most commonly attached to one’s First Kiss or one’s First Love. I must admit that I myself am not immune to this “first” syndrome. Nor does Numair Salmalin as it appears. A very much open secret that his First Love was the lovely and vivacious Varice Kingsford. Although they were university sweethearts, they never got together. However, they never got together with other people as well.

But then again, it is most commonly quoted that:

“A man wants to be a woman’s first love, while a woman wants to be his last.”

It must be noted that the male and female perspective of this quote is not mutually exclusive. Who says that one cannot be the first AND the last?

XXX Lady Dove

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Daine & Miri’s Apartment…

“Lady Dove is right,” Daine muttered to herself, perched on the stool next to the kitchen counter. “First and last is not mutually exclusive. That is the first and last time Mr Salmalin is kissing me. Idiot!”

“First and last what?” Miri asked, coming into the small kitchen.

“Oh nothing,” Daine said, and quickly drank her tea.

Miri glanced at what Daine was reading, “Ahh… Feeling upset that McDreamy has a first love? It’s kind of sweet actually.”

Daine rolled her eyes, but held her tongue, thinking ‘If only people really knew how mean Varice can be in luring and stringing Numair along like that! I don’t know if she’s being mean or just selfish, but objectively, any idiot should know that sort of behaviour is unbecoming.’ Out loud, she said, “Rubbish! He doesn’t interest me at all. He’s just my boss.” She bit her lip upon suddenly remembering that he may not be her boss any more and added lightly, “Anyway, this job may not be to my liking, so I may switch to another place.”

“What?” Miri screeched. “It’s just your third day, surely the job ain’t that bad? Or…” She sat eagerly in front of Daine with a bowl of cereal, “Did something happen between you and McDreamy? Hmm hmm?”

Daine spluttered. “No, no, nothing happened.” She looked innocently at Miri. “Why would it? He’s just my boss,” she laughed and tried to keep her tone light, “Anyway, look at me, I’m not someone that Numair would even take a passing fancy. I would be the last woman on earth he would have romantic interest in.” With that, she went into her bedroom to change. That was the truth, but still, somehow Daine felt strangely hurt by it. But oh why oh why did she remember the warmth of his embrace and how good he tasted?

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Numair’s Apartment…

“Salmalin,” Numair muttered to himself, “What in the hell were you thinking?” He raked his left hand through his hair as he resisted the urge to smack his head against the wall. The exact same wall that he had just threw his alarm clock against. He rolled onto his stomach, sprawled across his enormous bed.

He felt bad.

He felt guilty.

This was an emotion he rarely felt, especially with regard to members of the fairer sex. He definitely had more than adequate skills to satisfy females in every single way – emotionally, mentally, physically… Most of the females he mingled with were sufficiently sophisticated (or sometimes Alanna said sufficiently mercenary) to appreciate what he could give and knew how to appease him. Their feminine mannerisms always triggered the innate gentleman lurking within him. Yet, somehow when it came to Daine who probably had no inkling of how to wield her feminine gifts and in his efforts to cover up his embarrassment, he had treated her rather callously.

For crying out loud, although he was no stranger to feminine appreciation of his nude physique, it was plain embarrassing to be caught in the almost buff by a colleague. And he certainly was not going to explain to the magazine crew that he received the scratch on his face because he had hugged her. He knew very well that some prickly members of the board was not going to be happy that his new secretary had injured his face before a publicity campaign and the possible scandal that would result if that came out. He could just imagine the headlines screaming “Numair Salmalin accosts his new secretary on first day of work”. She would be fired immediately to avoid any speculation of a torrid boss-secretary affair.

He groaned and rolled nearer to the edge of the bed. Spare him from innocents! He had no idea how to handle them. He made a mess of yesterday and how he dealt with the situation. Resorting to very un-Numair like behaviour in forcibly grabbing her, oh heck, some may even call it abduction. And why did he kiss her? It would only serve him right if she started doodling his name in hearts “Mrs Numair Salmalin”.

She was a bewildering puzzle that he was trying to figure out. An odd specimen that treated him like no other female had before. Admittedly, most of the women he knew had sufficient experience or emotional quotient to deal with males, whether platonically or otherwise. Daine had this aura of innocence and vulnerability, but was a feisty little baggage when pushed. The things she had said to him… with such frankness that was shocking, but refreshing. When he ran into her at the office, he thought that the worst way she would retaliate was to berate him like she did in his bedroom. Hence, he was more than just shocked when silent tears slid down her eyes. It was a sharp jab to his heart and was more effective than a knee in the groin. He felt like he had kicked a puppy and a strong accompanying desire to compensate for his wrong.

Numair heaved himself out of bed and walked towards the bathroom. The bathroom was an open concept, with no walls partitioning it from the bedroom. Only the toilet bowl was hidden from sight behind a discreet panel in the wall. Otherwise, the huge bath tub that doubled as a Jacuzzi, the two marble sinks with accompanying mirrors and other accessories lay in plain sight the moment anyone walked through the bedroom door. Perhaps he should be grateful that he was not showering when Daine charged into his bedroom.

He turned on the shower head and braced himself against the wall, letting the hot water run over him. Daine… she was a bit of an oddity, and did not neatly fit into any of his normal categorization of females.

To him, females that he regularly interacted with came in three categories – family, friend material, girlfriend potential. Each group was accorded different treatment. Family, of course, was the easiest. Female relatives were to be benevolently treated, indulged and protectively looked after. Or perhaps too protectively looked after, he still remembered Alicia cringing at how he had coldly scrutinized the mere slip of a boy who had brought her home from a movie.

Girlfriend potentials, well. Being girlfriend material doesn’t necessarily mean that he would hook up with them or anything would result from the relationship. They were just females that he can appreciate… aesthetically and this often resulted in a rather mutually casual flirtatious mode of communication. They all tended to be sophisticated and mature women who knew the rules of the game- hence, they didn’t take things too seriously and often playfully flirted back. Those who… enjoyed his affections would be indulged for that momentary period that they could snag his attention.

His female friends tended to be outgoing and humorous. He joked around with them, enjoyed having long conversations with them and generally acted like a brother or good drinking buddy. With him acting as their confidante, sometimes jokingly (and occasionally not jokingly) offering to help beat up their ex. Friendships were strictly platonic and he never, never crossed the line. Having vicariously witness how sex can muck up a perfectly good friendship has made him determined never to let a friendship develop to something more. No matter how mature both parties are, he found that there would still be that awkward memory between them and things would never be quite the same way again.

When he met a female, bam, she was instantly and safely tucked under a category. However, Daine just didn’t fit in any of the categories. She was not family. Yet, she just didn’t fit under friend or girlfriend material. She was not someone whom he would joke around with nor flirt with. Distinguishing between friends and girlfriend material was mostly based on gut feeling. His head screamed that she was not a girlfriend material, as she was not the kind of female that he was ordinarily attracted to. Yet he just didn’t get this gut feeling that she was a friend material. He shook his head, she was friend material.

F-r-i-e-n-d.

He certainly could not imagine himself having a more than platonic relationship with her. His head eagerly agreed with him, but why oh why did he remember how soft her lips felt or how good she felt against him?

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Tortall Inc, Onua’s Office…

“Oh my, that is quite romantic,” Onua remarked, grinning at Alanna whose cheeks were the same colour as her infamous red hair.

“Romantic?” Alanna protested, “That man took advantage of me! Kissing me when my arms were full with all the food from DD he was delivering.”

“Remind me to order in from DD more often,” Onua joked under her breath, taking a sip of her coffee.

Alanna deliberately ignored Onua and tried to change the topic, “I’m quite surprised at the turn of events concerning Daine. Yesterday Gary and a few other members of the board were quite determined to get rid of Daine, because Numair’s behaviour seemed to worsen. Especially since this is a crucial period of time that Numair must try and come up with a new line of products in time for the launching date.” She leaned forward to take a piece of flaky pastry from the DD box on Onua’s desk. “It’s been quite a record breaking day. Daine was supposed to have the dubious honour of being the secretary with the shortest tenure at Tortall Inc. But, lo and behold, she had the honour of being the first secretary that Numair had pushed his weight for.”

Onua grinned, “Though Numair hardly throws his weight around, but when he does, it really makes an impact!”

“I’ll say!” Alanna mumbled, through a mouthful of pastry. “Not only did he unofficially over-rule the board members in firing Daine, but he unilaterally threw in a healthy clothes budget and pay raise for her. I heard he installed some sort of clothes rack for her in the office with some clothing of her size. We’ve been all commanded by him to act as if all his secretaries all along had this clothing perk. Though I wonder whether she will swallow the lie, especially when some of the clothes are worth more than her annual wages!” She swallowed her pastry, “But I can’t exactly fault him, as she does have to present a good image to his visitors and doesn’t seem to have the means to do so.”

Onua nodded and obligingly handed Alanna the serviette that she was trying to reach for. “Thanks,” Alanna responded, then shook her head, “But what amazes me the most is that he did all of this before eight-thirty am this morning before she came in for work!”

Onua smirked, “I told you so, I told you so. She’s going to be good for him.”

Alanna raised an eyebrow, “Don’t tell me you think he’s falling for her? She’s not even the right colouring or body shape!”

Onua rolled her eyes, but grinned, “No, if I was intending him to fall for his secretary, I would hire Varice. But… I think our dear Mr Salmalin is beginning to develop a soft spot for Daine.”

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hee hee, though it’s a modern fic that is unrelated to Tortall plot line, I couldn’t help but draw a parallel between Alanna’s first kiss in the book and her first kiss with George in this fic. ;)

I put Daine’s scene before Numair’s scene because it was related to Lady Dove’s article although originally I had put it after Numair’s soliloquy. On the time lag, well, Daine has to take public transport to work during rush hour, while Numair conveniently stays at the workplace, so he definitely has a head start over her. Some of the stuff he has done was already in process from the day before. For example, the purchase of clothes was already completed the previous day as he already had this in mind when he dragged her into the shop.

BSNS 3.1 Snippet

2006-07-09T09:55:00.000-07:00

Just a snippet from BSNS 3.1, I'm still writing it. You can thank this snippet to the anon commentor who has to go off to camp. Although this is not the full update (far from it), at least you can look forward to a proper long update when you return 3 weeks from now. ^___~ By then, I defintely would have properly updated the fic (and probably post this one-shot I'm halfway typing).

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HIGH SOCIETY: GOSSIP COLUMN

Dear Readers,

Admittedly, this is not an advice column, but I have received a copious amount of mail concerning personal problems and anecdotes. An interesting observation I have made from the common men and celebrities is that no matter how much we may have gone through in life we will always remember the FIRST.

The First will be special.

The First will be treasured and engraved in our memories.

After the First, the Second, Third, just simply pales into the distance, a vague memory. Ask anyone, when was the first time they kissed, they can probably recall with great fondness perhaps and regale with greater detail than necessary. Ask them about the second, third, one will often be rewarded with a sheepish “I can’t remember”, or “I think it was…”. This First label is most commonly attached to one’s First Kiss or one’s First Love. I must admit that I myself am not immune to this “first” syndrome. Nor does Numair Salmalin as it appears. A very much open secret that his First Love was the lovely and vivacious Varice Kingsford. Although they were university sweethearts, they never got together. However, they never got together with other people as well.

But then again, it is most commonly quoted that:

“A man wants to be a woman’s first love, while a woman wants to be his last.”

It must be noted that the male and female perspective of this quote is not mutually exclusive. Who says that one cannot be the first AND the last?

XXX Lady Dove

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Numair’s Apartment…

“Salmalin,” Numair muttered to himself, “What in the hell were you thinking?” He raked his left hand through his hair as he resisted the urge to smack his head against the wall. The exact same wall that he had just threw his alarm clock against. He rolled onto his stomach, sprawled across his enormous bed.

He felt guilty.

He felt bad.

This was an emotion he rarely felt, especially with regard to members of the fairer sex. He definitely had more than adequate skills to satisfy females in every single way – emotionally, mentally, physically… Admittedly, most of the females he mingled with were experienced, mature women. Sufficiently sophisticated (or sometimes Alanna said sufficiently mercenary) to appreciate what he could give and knew how to appease him. Their feminine mannerism always triggered the innate gentlemen lurking within him. Yet, somehow when it came to Daine who probably had no inkling of how to wield her feminine gifts and acted no differently than a man, he had treated her rather callously. Most of his female acquaintances would have laughed it off or fluttered their eyelashes into his better graces. It was embarrassing to admit it, but her tears undid him. The silent tears that rolled down her face hit him more effectively than a knee in the groin.

He was an utter idiot.

He sighed, and heaved himself out of bed. Spare him from innocents! He had no idea how to handle them. He made a mess of yesterday and how he dealt with the situation. Resorting to very un-Numair like behaviour in forcibly grabbing her, oh heck, some may even call it kidnap. And why did he kiss her? It would only serve him right if she started doodling his name in hearts “Mrs Numair Salmalin”. He groaned as he made his way to the toilet. And why oh why did he remember how soft her lips felt or how good she felt against him?

Daine...how do I think she looks like...

2006-07-08T05:17:00.000-07:00

I will be posting a fic (one-shot of update of BSNS) soon. Halfway writing. Hmm... this is probably one of the most cliche questions around...

how do I think Daine looks like in reality or which actresses/singer/personality looks/resembles/reminds me most of her?

To be honest, although I have not quite thought about the other characters, but once I saw this particular actress, I rather thought she would be what I think Daine would look like. Really pretty, has personality and character in the face, yet this hint of vulnerability/innocence in the eyes. Of course the eye colouring is off, but hey, there's something called coloured contacts... hur hur hur... but then again, i'm not too sure how blue-grey eyes do look in reality...

It was the movie King Arthur, the promo pics, that struck me how she reminded me of Daine... yes... she's none other than Kiera Knightly... hur hur hur...

BSNS 2.4

2006-06-17T08:17:00.000-07:00

BILLIONAIRE SCIENTIST & HIS NEW SECRETARY
CHAPTER TWO
PART 4

As usual, somehow when I post on blogspot, my italics, bolds, doesn't come across. For full and complete effect of font, refer to ff.net posting. Tamora Pierce owns all, naturally. If not I wouldn’t be studying so hard. :) Author’s note on characters’ behaviour can be found below.

Can’t believe it has been so long since I last updated! If it’s any consolation, this update is longer than usual as I wanted to wrap things up for chapter 2. Yup! Next update is chapter 3, wheee!! I’m not completely satisfied with my writing for this part, but will leave it as it is as I can’t think of how to improve it at the moment.

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This was one of the very, very rare times, she wished that she was wrong.

Wrong for thinking that her second day was going to turn out worse than the first day after she had to lug up heavy boxes of RA 3498. Plural, not singular. B-o-x-e-s.

Wrong for thinking that Numair was probably going to miss the important meeting. Again.

Wrong for thinking that she was going to get into trouble for that.

Wrong for wishing that she never had a boss like Numair Salmalin.

She laid her throbbing head on her table, everything just ached. After Numair stalked into his room, she went down to grab the boxes from the room. To her surprise, the storage room was quite secured - she had to not only pass the security desk, but a number of secured doors before reaching her destination. Perhaps they had placed the applications with some other secured materials. After lugging the boxes up to the office, her palm top had alerted her that the meeting was about to start. She checked the meeting place and was not too surprised that Numair was not there.

Then, the madness started.

She tried searching for him using the palmtop. Strangely enough, it said he was in his office. She checked every single inch of the office, (even under his table though she doubted he would be hiding there) but he was nowhere to be found. She scoured the whole building for him, to no avail. Even the male toilets. Her hesitant embarrassment was soon overcome by her urgency to find Numair, leading her to develop a mild bellow of “Mr Salmalin? Are you there?” Her stress increased when Gareth, one of the board of directors gave her a harsh scolding and an incredulous “how can you lose a six foot five man?” After three hours of searching, she was finally hauled into the meeting place for a thorough berating. Alanna had intervened and brought her to one side, but it was worse to see a disappointed Onua telling her to be more vigilant in her duties. Anger, Daine could take.

Guilt was another matter altogether.

Apparently, according to Alanna, Onua was already under some pressure for hiring Daine, who was relatively unqualified and inexperienced for such a prestigious company as Tortall Inc. It was worse that Daine could not seemingly do a “simple” task of reminding Numair to come to the meeting. Twice. In just Two days consecutively.

Daine closed her eyes. She wouldn’t be too surprised if Gareth insisted that Onua sent her a letter to send her packing. How she needed the money! She started thinking of how she was going to have to start making ends meet. She probably had to take on more jobs to make up for the relatively lower pay…

Her eyes sprung open as she heard a dreaded voice mildly say, “It’s bad enough you can’t handle calls, but at the very least, you shouldn’t be sleeping on the job.”

If looks could kill, Numair would be six-feet under. “You arrogant pompous ass!” She slammed her hands on her desk. “How DARE you lecture me about being professional? How DARE you take that self-righteous tone with me. You, you irresponsible jerk! You’re what? Thirty? Forty? But you act like a spoilt brat. You blow up at me for no reason whatsoever! Just because you’re angry or unhappy doesn’t give you the prerogative to take it out on other people. You told me, TOLD me that you were not to be disturbed. No calls. So I do EXACTLY what you say. But NOOO, you throw a tantrum like some spoilt brat and blame me because of YOUR mistake. Because YOU didn’t tell me you wanted her call to come through.”

With jerky movements, Daine got to her feet. “I don’t know what kind of ivory tower you live in. But us ordinary people have to work for a living. Money doesn’t fall from the sky. I don’t have so much money to fritter away on clothes. I have rent, bills, debts to pay. So what if I don’t wear branded clothes? They are all just pieces of cloth to cover your body! You think I don’t know I’m poor? I do, every time I have to count the coins to pay for my lunch. You don’t have to rub it in my face. Heck, I think your suit probably can pay a whole year’s rent for me.”

She rubbed at her face that had became dampened with tears, not realizing that she was crying tears of frustration, “I may not be some big shot but I’m a PERSON. Just because you’re paying me to work for you doesn’t give all of you the right to treat me like dirt! I reminded you to go for the important meeting today. You, the head of the team didn’t even bother to remember to go. I looked for you, I looked for THREE hours. I am utterly humiliated because not only do your bosses scold me publicly, but also because I had to go through all the male toilets in the building looking for you. I was scolded for being incompetent, useless and getting the job through favours… Heck, I don’t even know why I’m even bothering to talk to you. It’s not like you give a damn anyway.” With that, Daine stormed out of the room, leaving a very shocked Numair.

Her fury brought her stalking out of the building before she realized she had left her purse behind. She furiously rubbed the tears of frustration from her face and muttered, “Great, just great.” Her pride would not let her go back into the building looking like such a mess and after such a dramatic exit. She sighed, ‘I could use the exercise and time to think… After all, before I had the fortune to meet Miri, I had to walk half an hour to work everyday at the diner… What a humour fate has… To think a mere year ago, the furthest walk I took was from the laboratories to the carpark,’ Daine shook her head, pausing at the road junction that separated the office buildings from the high-end shopping street. Suddenly, she heard a car horn at her and turned to see Numair in a black Jaguar. “Jump in,” Numair said. “We have to talk.”

“Go away,” Daine retorted, limping rather badly because of her blisters.

“Daine, please,” Numair said.

“I’m not about to get fired in the car, get your new secretary to send me a letter in black and white, IF you can remember to do it by yourself,” Daine responded, and walked faster. Cars started horning behind Numair and he growled in frustration as he drove off.

‘That’s the end of that,’ Daine thought. ‘I better start looking for another job.’ She groaned, now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain of the friction between her raw skin and shoes was screaming in her brain. She paused before a display case and took off her shoes, grumpily thinking, ‘to hell with image, I would like to kick the person who invented hells down the stairs!’ She straightened and a glistening light from the display case caught her eye. Turning to scrutinize its source, she caught her breath. It was a beautiful intricate necklace, made of white gold, sapphires and diamonds. She could imagine that it would look gorgeous on a lady in a flowing bustier ball gown. Hmm… with hair pinning back to show the jewelry to its best effect… Daine shook her head, “Whoever wears it, probably lives in a very different world from me…” After glancing at the price, she blanched, “make that a couple of universes away.”

She turned and took a couple steps before being suddenly swept off her feet by strong arms. Daine briefly struggled before a stern “Hold still or I will drop you” interrupted her efforts. She stared in shock at Numair.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Put me down.”

“Where do you think you are going, all bare-footed?” Numair asked mildly.

“If you haven’t realized, all this is thanks to you. Human beings are never meant to walk in covered heels,” Daine growled. “Damn company policy.”

Numair frowned. “Speaking of company policy, isn’t there one against leaving the office before six?”

“That doesn’t apply to me anymore,” Daine said primly, trying to ignore the curious gazes of passer-bys. “I am going to get fired anyway. So you can just put me down, and go back to the little world of your own.” She started to struggle again.

“Daine,” Numair said warningly as her struggles intensified. He sighed and from carrying her bridal style, he flipped her over his shoulder.

She briefly lost her breath. “Numair, put me down! This is so embarrassing!”

“Watch your head,” Numair said, as he walked into the cool air of a store. Daine gaped to realize that he had just walked into one of the posh stores that lined the street near Tortall Inc. She turned a deep red. The store was simplistic. It was big, with a very artsy like décor. Unlike a normal clothing store, there were far lesser clothing displayed. There were completely no price tags. Apparently it was a “if you have to ask for the price, you can’t afford it” type of store.

“Mr Salmalin, welcome to our humble store,” came an enthusiastic male voice.

“Ah, Juan, just the person I was hoping to see,” Numair said, speaking as if it was normal that he came in with a woman thrown over his shoulder. He leaned forward to whisper to Juan something inaudible to Daine’s straining ears. Suddenly, Daine was put down on her feet.

“Finally!” she scowled before firm hands twisted her to face a stylishly dressed man.

“My name is Juan, my lady. You are most lucky that I, the head designer happened to be in the neighbourhood-” he said.

“Yes, that’s good for you, but I have to go,” Daine interrupted.

“Not so fast. I won’t have you bleeding on my Persian carpets!” he ordered.

Daine looked down guiltily at the plush carpet. She didn’t think blood stains would be easy to come off. “I-” she said.

“Shush!” Juan admonished, and clapped his hands as store assistants sprung forward. He took out a measuring tape and started barking orders in French. He measured her briskly and an assistant took photographs of her using a digital camera.

“I am not trying on clothing!” she said, looking around for Numair who seemed to have disappeared.

“We’re not asking you in the first place,” Juan responded, making Daine go red. “Here, sit down, we want to get a shoe size.”

“But -” Daine protested.

“Shush! Shush! Shush!” Juan interrupted and gave her a push into a chair that was suddenly placed behind her by his assistants. While a store assistant took measurements of her feet, Juan held swathes of cloth against her face, muttering to himself, occasionally shaking or nodding. Daine sighed, she was going to strangle Numair if she ever saw him again.

A gentle hand grasped Daine’s foot and she winced when something damp gently dabbed against it. She looked down to see Numair kneeling in front of her, with her foot on his lap. A new first aid kit was next to him. With one hand, he held her foot firmly, and with the other, he had a cotton pad with what appeared as antiseptic. She growled at him, “Let go of me.”

He didn’t even look at her as he said, “Just be a good girl and behave, I will give you a sweet if you stay still and let me tend to your foot.”

She scowled at him, “I’m not a child.”

“Then don’t act like one,” he responded mildly and she suffered his administrations with ill-concealed impatience.

After Numair tended her wounds, he placed her feet in a pair of sandals. “What is this?” Daine snorted. “Cinderella? Oh ooohhhh….” She gasped in pleasure as her foot slid into one of the sandals. It was so soft!

Numair shook his head, “Cinderella came with her shoes, remember? Besides, I doubt glass slippers would be adequate for your feet at the moment.” He grinned at her, and Daine felt this kick to the heart. ‘No wonder he’s such a ladies’ man,’ Daine thought and fought to stop blushing.

“Mr Salmalin,” Juan called and Numair unfolded his lanky body to talk to Juan.

Daine mentally slapped herself, ‘What are you thinking Daine? He’s just appeasing his guilt! Not like he would be interested in someone like you… He just cooked up the sham engagement lie to ward off his mother, who is rather scary and tenacious…’ She started making her way out of the shop when someone suddenly scooped her up. She sighed and folded her arms, “I can walk you know, so you can put me down. In many parts of the world, this is called kidnapping.”

“And in other parts of the world, this is called a sweet gesture,” Numair grinned. “Besides, we need to talk.”

“Look, Mr Salmalin? There’s nothing to talk about. Your superiors are going to dismiss me from my post, so as your ex-employee, I don’t have any obligation whatsoever to listen to you.” Daine said with exaggerated patience. “Besides, the solution to the problem lies with a change in your attitude and not in talking. I have no idea how many times you must have succeeded in explaining yourself out of things, but for your own good -” she patted his cheek at this point. “-you should re-examine and evaluate your conduct. It’s clear amazing how you managed to be a top notch inventor without forgetting to turn up at meetings to sell your inventions.”

“Harumph,” Numair replied, “Watch your head.” Daine’s breath was knocked out of her when he gently tossed her into his black jaguar.

When he settled himself into the driver’s seat, he interrupted her before she could speak, “I’m twenty-nine. Not thirty and definitely not forty.”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Is this what it’s about?”

“And you’re twenty-four. Single, and surprisingly naïve and innocent to the ways of men. With an adorable tendency to blush. Been working since after high school,” Numair continued and reiterated to her word-for-word of what was on her CV.

Daine snorted, “You have a good memory, so what?”

Numair looked at her seriously, “I do see you as a person Veralidaine Sarrasri. Though Onua had eventually picked you independently without any input from me, she showed me the list of short-listed candidates. It does matter to me who potentially becomes my secretary-”

“Uh huh… Must have regretted that I did not turn out blonde, blue-eyed and curvaceous,” Daine interrupted.

She could hear his smile as she looked towards the door, searching for the handle, “Now now, you don’t need to put down yourself so, I’m sure with a bit of prettying up you’ll look good as well. As they say, there isn’t such a thing as an ugly girl, but a lazy girl.”

She was making a break for it, and tried to open the door. “You locked it!” she glared at him accusingly. “Let me out now!”

“Not till you hear me out,” Numair replied calmly.

“Let me out,” Daine demanded. “Now. Before I scream for help.”

“No,” Numair responded firmly.

She opened her mouth to scream and was halfway cut off when Numair suddenly covered her mouth.

With.

His.

Mouth.

She blinked in surprise, as warmth spread through her veins. Numair broke off his kiss and looked at her in heavy-lidded pleasure, “I figured that would keep you silent for a while.”

She gaped at him and his audacity.

He took her hands and said, “Look, it’s, it’s…” he flushed and plunged on determinedly, “I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you. My conduct, it’s nothing against you personally. I’m just someone who likes to work independently. I was happy as a free-lancing inventor, till Jonathan came along to persuade me to enter into a joint venture with him, Tortall Inc. He had the vision, I had the brain power he said. I’m not used to this rigid structure, this bureaucracy of meeting after meeting after meeting. My passion is pursuit of knowledge, I just get caught up in my world as many can testify when I’m onto something. I want to make it clear that I didn’t deliberately miss meetings just to spite you.”

“Sex,” Daine blurted.

“What?” Numair yelped.

“I, I mean, you miss meetings because of sex too,” Daine spluttered.

“Oh! You mean the first morning you met me? No, I went to bed alone, I just overslept,” Numair said quickly. “Not to say I’m a monk, but, when I’m making a break-through for an invention, nothing can pull me away. Not any woman, friend or family member. I’m sure you’re bound to hear of all the urban legends of me going without sleep and food for days.”

Daine nodded, Evin had been most eloquent on that! “Unfortunately,” Numair said. “It’s true, those urban legends. But that was just once, or maybe twice. Alright, or maybe more. But it resulted in the flat screen monitor. Which is why probably Jonathan stopped Alanna from nagging or scolding me about it too much. Made Tortall Inc’s stocks go up more than 200%.”

Daine sighed, “Look, this is all well and good. I’m glad that you’re not doing this out to spite me. But things are not going to change. You’re just going to jam the palmtop again and send crazy signals so that your next secretary can’t find you. Continuing your usual ways and I’m out of job anyway. Just… just remember this when you get your next secretary.” She bit her lip, ‘Damn it Daine, hold yourself together. No reason to suddenly feel maudlin now that you’re out of job and your ex-boss is being nicer to you out of guilt.’

“Let me show you something,” Numair said suddenly and started driving out of the lot he had parked in. Curious, Daine watched her surroundings as he sped by. Daine sighed as she recognized Tortall Inc and he drove into the underground VIP carpark.

“Numair, after today the board is going to fire me. So it’s no point dragging me back here. Besides, I’m a complete mess,” Daine said exasperatedly.

“Nonsense,” Numair responded, he got out of the car and pulled a reluctant Daine to her feet. He straightened out her clothing, neatening her collar and produced a comb out of no where to brush her hair. He grinned at her, “Slight of hand is one of my hobbies. Makes me very popular among my nieces and nephews.” The feel of him combing her hair was… nice… and she had to fight the urge to purr.

He gently wiped her face with a damp towelette and remarked, “Be glad you don’t wear mascara or much make-up. You should change your spectacles though. Have you thought of contacts?” He was about to remove her spectacles when Daine said sharply, “Don’t, I’m blind as a bat without them.” She shrugged out of his reach.

“Well then,” Numair said. “I’m about to show you something that you have to keep to yourself till your deathbed.”

“Uh huh,” Daine snorted.

“Restrain your enthusiasm,” Numair responded wryly, “I almost cannot bear it.” He took her hand firmly and towed her to the lift. Her whole body tingled at the contact and she could feel herself blushing. She was not a very touchy-feely person by nature, and yet Numair had touched her more today than she had allowed her previous boyfriends in the first month of the relationship. Oh heck! She did not allow kisses on the first date and she and Numair were not even dating!

She kept her eyes on the floor as Numair quickly dragged her through the office, past a bemused Shalene. They stopped in his office and Daine sighed, “So what are you going to show me?”

She gulped as she heard Numair locking the door behind her. He went around her and leaned against his desk. “What I have to show you is something I don’t show other people.”

‘Oh dear, please don’t tell me he’s a pervert and he’s going to flash me…’ Daine thought, looking around his office for a weapon. His office was efficiently designed. There was no artsy or ornamental items here as there were in the reception area. His table dominated the room, a sleek contraption with an impressive length of 3 metres. It was even bigger than Daine’s single bed at home. Behind the desk were floor-to-ceiling cupboards. The middle portion of the cupboards comprised of exposed bookshelves. A preliminary scan of the materials revealed an impressive collection of scientific textbooks and journals. Natural light came in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that flanked the desk.

“Daine?” Numair said, waving his hand in front of her.

‘Thank goodness he’s not waving anything else at me,’ Daine thought and replied, “Yes?”

Numair looked at her suspiciously and continued, “As I was saying, I did not block or interfere with your palmtop’s tracking system. How it works is that it tracks what was the last door I had opened with my card.”

“So you snuck out of here on somebody else’s card?” Daine guessed.

“No…” Numair replied, “But that is quite a good suggestion..." He strode forward to take her hands, "Promise me that what I tell you will be kept a secret... Just between you and me..."

Daine's eyes blinked at his sudden closeness, his unique scent -a mix of clean soap and spices- enveloped her. "I, I won't tell..." she promised.

He tugged her hand as he led her towards the shelves of books. He raised his left hand, while his right hand still firmly clasped Daine's hand. Daine watched his long tanned fingers brush across the books. They paused at a particularly thick volume of "The Logic of Scientific Discovery", written by Karl R. Popper. Numair pushed the book inwards and a small screen unfolded itself from the space previously occupied by the book. His fingers hovered over the keypad, hesitating.

"I guess this is where you type in your password huh?" Daine said, breaking the awkward pause. "If you want, I'll turn around." She turned her body, tugging her hand out of his. Numair gave a muffled oath and his right hand grasped her waist and spun her around. He pulled her next to him, tucked against his side.

Numair sighed, "It's not that I don't want you to know my password, but it's just... embarrassing... that's all. When it comes to passwords like these, where I use them everyday, everyday I type it in... each time I type it in, the password just runs around in my head... so I tend to use... names that are close to my heart."

He blushed. He actually blushed. Numair, the sophisticated connoisseur of women was blushing. Daine found it awfully adorable. She stopped herself from giggling; she hardly thought Numair would be pleased to find that she found him adorable. Suave, yes. Adorable like a cute puppy or bunny, no.

"Surely it's not Bubbles from the Power puff girls?" Daine ventured a joke.

Numair looked at her, surprised and laughed. "No, no," he said. "As adorable as she is, no, it is not. It's... Well, I guess you know her name already..." Daine watched his fingers as he started to type in the password "V-A-R-I-C-E."

Daine felt a sharp pang in her heart. 'Stop it Daine!' she scolded herself. 'He's your boss. Nothing else. His personal life is his own business. Who he sees, he dates or sleeps with...' She bit her lip, then forced herself to sound light as she said, "I already know her, so it's not exactly that surprising."

His grip around her waist tightened a bit, then he said, "as you already know, it's a bit of a sensitive issue..." he gave a self-depreciating laugh.”If you want to know more, you have to wait till I am really drunk. It's awfully embarassing for a fine specimen like myself, well-educated and all, to hold a school boy crush after so many years..." He shook his head and looked at her, "You and your god-blest eyes, just looking at me, it's so easy to talk, with words dropping off my tongue. Doing what many hardened negotiators were unable to do."

A portion of the cupboard swung inwards, Numair gently pulled her through the opening. The door silently shut behind them and Daine looked around with unabashed curiosity. It was... messy. Stacks of books, files, loose papers were scattered around the room. She could see that this was where Numair really worked. His computer was a haphazard collection of different screens. There seemed to be different programmes running on each of them.

"Appearances can be deceiving, you know," Numair smiled. Daine nodded, ignoring a stab of guilt. She knew that too well...

He flung his arm out, "This, my dear lady, is my humble abode where I work. When we first moved into this building, I was given free reign as to how to design this level. I am good friends with the architect and had this built with a small unknown construction company. This is my last place of sanctuary, to escape from all the buzz and bother."

"Wouldn't Alanna and the others know?" Daine asked, curious. "I'm sure they must have some sort of floor plan to rig up the security devices."

"Nope," Numair said. "Let's just say... their floor plans... are soft copies... and I have a talent for twiddling." He gave a mischievous grin, which made Daine's heart twitch. "At the moment, in this company, let's just say, it's just you and me who knows... I normally lock the office doors, so when someone wants to see me," he pointed to a screen which showed the layout of the floor plan. "I can tell and I'll go outside to my nice pristine office. So I hadn’t really the occasion or need to tell people about my secret hide-out."

"Then why didn't you respond to my calls? And couldn’t you tell by the screen thing that I was pounding at your door?" Daine demanded, starting to feel agitated.

Numair looked sheepishly as he said, "I was in a bad mood and had switched off all communications, so I really didn't know you were calling me. Even if you were banging on my main office door, I was too distracted to hear it through the wall. Look Daine..” he took a deep breath and continued, “I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. Please just give me another chance, you'll find working for me a lot better from now on."
"It's a nice sentiment, but I think the board of directors probably decided to fire me," Daine sighed.

"Doesn't matter," Numair said seriously. "Just come for work tomorrow, I don't think they'll fire you. Besides, there's no harm in coming."

Daine sighed, "Alright, I'll come. I need to come back tomorrow to pack my stuff anyway and settle some administrative things if I'm dismissed." She smiled with wry humour, "I guess it's good I'm being paid pro rata, easier to calculate my wages."

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Daine sat at her desk, deciding to at least leave things in order if she had to leave. Numair had left the office, presumably to find the group of people he was supposed to meet earlier. She rotated her shoulders slowly, it had been a long day. Scanning through the e-mail sorter, she filtered e-mails that were to reach Numair and to which inbox and category. She didn't have to reject much e-mails as the other secretarial aides had the unfortunate tedious task of doing so. Adrenaline raced through her as she came across the e-mail.

From Varice.

She knew that she should just have directly sent it to Numair without looking, but curiosity overwhelmed her. She hoped that Varice was not too unduly upset that Daine had not put Numair through this morning. 'It's not as if I'm going to continue working here anyway,' she thought and clicked on the e-mail.

...Heya big guy,

tried to call you today, but you were busy. Should have known better as it's your usual season of trying to come up with a new line of products. Bad timing I know. Well, I know this is sudden, but I've met someone. Orzone. He's the CEO of Carthak Inc. He's fabulously rich, powerful and everything that a girl can even dream of. He's like my prince charming! Swept me off my feet and we're off to Europe today for a month, visiting his extensive array of properties and villas. Can't wait to try out my new bikini that I shopped with you that day. Hahaha.

I guess I should tell you face-to-face, especially after that kiss we had last week. But I know you wouldn't read too much into that. Nobody would. I was high on alcohol and carried away in the spirit of the moment. But I must say your skills have drastically improved since our first time. Heh heh. wink! Anyway, will call you again when I return.

XXX Varice, your little vixen always...

'That witch!' Daine thought, incensed, recalling on what Shalene has told her and Numair's reaction to her name. 'She should know that Numair feels strongly for her! Leading him along like that. And now hopping off with his competitor! My gosh! She should know better than to drop this sort of bombshell on him at such a crucial time when he needs to concentrate on his work!! I am just so tempted to just tell her off!!!'

She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing. She had to calm down. She got up and started to pace. 'Breathe Daine, breathe,' she told herself. Thoughts raced through her mind and she fought the ugly dark feelings that were creeping up on her. 'First things first,' Daine thought and plunked herself in front of her computer again. 'My final gift to Numair. He's better off without that witch. So it's a good thing. But based on how he reacted at her name and how that I didn't put her call through, he's going to take this very, very badly. Makes no difference whether he knows this now or later. Later would be better, as revenge would be sweet if he could come up with a better line of products than Carthak Inc. Besides… I won't be around when she gives him the grand call.'

She looked at Varice's "new" e-mail that she had edited with grim satisfaction.

...Heya big guy,

tried to call you today, but you were busy. Should have known better as it's your usual season of trying to come up with a new line of products. Bad timing I know. Well, I know this is sudden, but I'm off to Europe today for a month. Can't wait to try out my new bikini that I shopped with you that day. Hahaha. Anyway, will call you again when I return.

XXX Varice, your little vixen always...

'Thanks to this software, I can change the sender's e-mail address so it'll seem like it was from her. I guess it helps to be in such a high-tech company.' Daine thought and tried to appease a small guilty nagging voice. 'Besides, I'm not changing the content, I'm just selectively deleting some sentences.' The previous e-mail's contents ran through her mind and her fingers tightened over the mouse.

With that, she clicked sent and the "new" e-mail went to Numair's personal inbox.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Ah well, felt like writing a bit on the characters’ behaviour and to provide some insight into their actions. Optional reading to understand characters a bit better.

Daine’s Silence
On Daine’s silence towards Numair’s treatment, she’s silent due to combination of factors. First, she’s stunned at Numair’s behaviour, understandably, since it is not very reasonable. I think Numair can be scary and imposing when he wants to be, considering that he can be physically intimidating.

Second, she needs the job. I think the reality is that for most people, even if their bosses are twits, they will not be out rightly rude or snap back. Especially at their first week of work. Most likely, people will just go complain/whine about their unreasonable bosses to their friends/spouse/family, etc. Something like how we would react to unreasonable teachers, except that for the workplace, A LOT more is at stake. Not only livelihood, but promotion, work environment, etc.

Third and most importantly, I think (personal opinion) it is not in Daine’s character to instinctively slap back at people, she’s not an “Alanna”. She’s more placid and it takes quite a bit to provoke her. If it’s some sensitive matter, like if you were to mistreat an animal in front of her, that’s another issue altogether. But as a person, she’s not too sensitive about people criticizing her, she definitely doesn’t have an ego/pride problem. She’s also a bit insecure at the moment, like she was in Wild Magic. Hence, when people criticize her, she tends to “shrink” into herself, pondering if it’s true. Of course, later when she matures throughout the books, she takes such criticisms in her stride. (I guess she has to, since she has to endure quite a bit of scrutiny and remarks from her association to Numair and all sort of animals/immortals in the books.) Anyway, Daine does have her limits and as noticed, she finally snaps in this part and talks back to Numair.

Numair’s behaviour
He’s being a bit OOC and coming across as mean and unfair to Daine. Hopefully it’s within logical reasoning. In this fic, he’s feeling somewhat awkward towards Daine because he’s unused to dealing with such an “innocent”. So far, his mean behaviour doesn’t originate from an intention to be mean or nasty. Rather, he (rather childishly perhaps) takes out his frustration on Daine when she doesn’t put the much awaited call from Varice through and she attracts his ire when she attempts to “nag” him when he is in such a black mood. Something like how some people would just be unreasonable and easily upset when they are already in such a bad temper.

More importantly, his conduct can be attributed to him covering up his embarrassment/awkwardness. E.g. he snaps at Daine at the last part and walks away because he suddenly felt a bit bad about what he was doing. Hence, to cover up what he felt and to break off from such a situation (instead of waiting for or pressing her to reply to his question), he gives a rather rude remark but walks off.

Anyway, it was intended as a build-up to Daine snapping in this part and this marks a turning point in their relationship. In this part, Daine's explosion caused him to realise what a total ass he has been. ^__~ Hence, he is trying to make amends to her. Also, SPOILER ALERT, DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS - It also gives Daine the impetus to try and maintain their suddenly good relationship. Thus, carrying out the e-mail charade to avoid their relationship from degenerating back to where it was before he apologized. -END SPOILER.

Wuffy Wolf one-shot

2006-06-13T20:22:00.000-07:00

WUFFY WOLF FIC

Author's Note: One-shot snippet for fun writing, written within thirty minutes. So tell me if I made any errors. Yes, I'm halfway writing BSNS. It's lonnngg overdue for an update! Hmm... I'm not too sure when this fic would happen, but it's defintely after First Test and the Immortal series.

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She said she would be here, but I approached warily towards the cave. I did not smell any dogs, those noisy whimpy creatures. But... the smell in the air disturbed me... I smelt her, yes, her scent was very familar to me after all the time she had spent with us.

But... it was different.

She smelt more like pack... yet... I inhaled deeply again... I growled... her scent was heavily mixed with an alpha male... a strong one... It would not do to have a boss wolf try to challenge my authority over my territory... I bared my teeth in displeasure.

Any silly cub knew that the element of surprise and stealth was important and I had outgrown my cub stage a long time ago. I quitened my growls and steadily crept towards the mouth of the cave, taking pains not to be easily seen from the cave. My ears twitched this way and that, trying to decipher any sound coming from the cave. Just breathing.

I quietly inhaled and could better make out the mixture of smells from the cave. The strong alpha male's smell seemed familar, I searched my memory for the smell, but the memory remained elusive to me. I paused and growled.

The strong scent of mating hung in the air.

It did not smell like it resulted in a cub, but a strange male mating with one that I consider a member of the pack was a direct challenge to my authority. I went closer and peered at the couple entwined on the floor. A dark over-sized grey wolf protectively curled around a tawny-coloured female wolf. In some corner of my mind, I noted with approval that he had gave her warmth and was positioned nearer the entrance of the cave to meet any foes first before she did. But... I bared my teeth, he did not seem an easy foe... his size for one, was bigger than mine, he was bigger than any wolf I had come across so far. But size does not mean everything, skill and brains accounted for more in a battle. Especially one like this where the cave would limit his movements and give me the advantage.

The male jerked awake from his slumber and growled at me. His dark eyes glinting in warning, uncurling himself from the tawny female who opened her eyes sleepily.

MINE!

His whole body language screamed and he bared his teeth in warning.

-Back off!- the male growled. Who did he think he is? I growled in response, readying myself for the battle of dominance. The female quickly knocked the strange male over and shoved herself in front of him. I knew he let himself be pushed aside, for she was smaller than him. If he wanted he could have easily knocked her silly nilly. She should know better than to try to interfere with a battle between alpha males.

Her ears pressed against her head and she lowered it, whining softly, in a show of submission. -I apologise Broadfang, for bringing this strange male wolf in without your permission. He's my mate. We reached here yesterday and I was caught up in the spirit of the forest... I changed into this form, frolicking this way and that. He didn't want to, but he couldn't leave me to run around in the forest alone... So he followed. The moon was high and we got... carried away... I forgot that we were meeting you here this sunrise and had not changed back to our two-legger form.-

I peered closely at the male who had shouldered his way next to Daine. No wonder he smelt familar. He was storkman. But in wolf form. -Silly cubs.- I huffed and turned towards the mouth of the cave. -The pack is waiting. Come now, they are most eager to see you.-

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BSNS 2.3

2006-05-05T07:29:00.000-07:00

BILLIONAIRE SCIENTIST & HIS NEW SECRETARY
CHAPTER TWO
PART 3

Hello! Whew, it’s been quite some time since I’ve updated. If you want me to reply to your questions in your reviews, do sign into ff.net or leave an e-mail address, etc.

Anyways, on the idea of a “sham” engagement, I was not inspired by any particular material, it just popped in my head when I was typing. Most of my ideas just come in that way. But it is in no way original because I think it is the most cliché plot bunny used since the beginning of time. Hee hee. “Sham” engagements and marriages can probably be found in quite a number of novels, especially romance. So, nope, was not inspired by the chocolate pot book, actually, I haven’t heard read it yet. :)

Thanks very much for the reviews and words of encouragement. Was pleasantly surprised to see them when I finally returned back to the world of the living when my exams ended.

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‘Welcome tonight’s game show!

Your boss and HR department has a bad impression of you.

It is now the crucial period where your boss needs a conducive environment to work. The grand date when he has to come up with some amazing product is one month’s time.

He tells you that he is not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Lo and behold! His apparently old friend calls up! You think that there’s a possibility that he may feel strongly for her.

So, here’s the million dollar question. Do you let her call through?

Tick tock.

Tick tock.’

“Hello?” the voice gently queried, shaking Daine out of her thoughts.

“Yes,” Daine responded automatically. “I am afraid Mr Salmalin is occupied at the moment, would you like to leave a message?” She wrote down the message on her palm top. “Hmm… yes, sure! I will tell him and get him to get back to you.”

“Get back to me on what?” a deep voice suddenly asked. Daine jumped and looked up into the eyes of her boss lounging against her desk. Although Evin had earlier leaned against her desk, he just didn’t dominate the area around him like Numair did. A small voice in Daine’s head said, ‘Evin doesn’t dominate your thoughts like Numair does’.

Daine quickly looked down to hide a blush. “Varice Kingsford called to tell you that her e-mail should arrive soon and that she is going overseas for two months.”

She was too preoccupied reading from the message that she did not realize that Numair had suddenly went still. Thus, it was to her great surprise when he slammed his hand on the desk and scowled, “Why didn’t you put her through?”

Daine blinked, cowed and stunned into silence by the sudden air of sizzling anger around Numair. Their eyes held for a long moment, Daine found it impossible to shift her gaze away, she stuttered, “I, I…”

He growled. “I don’t have time for this!” He whipped out his handphone and barked, “Call Varice.” Apparently his handphone was voice activated and he put the handphone next to his ear after the sharp command while stalking out of the room.

He brushed by a chagrined Shalene who was holding a stack of papers near the door. “Oh dear,” Shalene said. Daine blushed that the receptionist had witnessed what happened. She came over and placed the stack of papers on the desk. “Evin that silly boy forgot to mention was that Varice is Numair’s soft spot. Apparently they go waayyy… back in university. Credible sources speculate that she was probably his first… you know… er hum… well, love. But, after university, she hooked up with someone else, went through a string of relationships. She’s always kept in contact with Numair, especially in between relationships. That’s when she comes around and pays attention to him, before hopping off to the next man.”

Daine gaped, “He is her stand-in boyfriend?”

Shalene laughed, “That’s one way to put it, though I think she views him as only a close friend. There was no re-enactment of their more than platonic relationship in university, though we, including myself, think that recently, he wants her as a serious girlfriend.”

Daine queried, “So she just got out of a relationship?”

“Nope, her last relationship ended last year? So, this has been one of the longest periods of time where she was unattached. They have been communicating more regularly, that’s probably why Numair think he has a chance with her and was a bit harsh with you,” Shalene explained and patted Daine’s hand. “But don’t worry, I’m sure it will blow over soon when she contacts him again. Just remember that everything relating to her goes to Numair direct. They mainly communicate by e-mail… In fact, I think her latest e-mail just came in, so it should be in your e-mail sorter programme.”

“Thanks,” Daine said, and thought, ‘Goodness, I can’t imagine Numair as some pining lover.’

The telephone rang and Daine picked it up, “Good Morning, Mr Salmalin’s office, how may I help you?”

A polished female voice answered, “We have just received the job applications for the research post. Mr Salmalin is supposed to review the candidate’s application. Could you please come down to collect it?”

“Sure,” Daine responded. “Where should I go to?” She took her pen, ready to scribble down the message on her palm top.

“Please proceed to Level B4, Room 58. They are in the boxes marked RA 3498. Thank you.”

Just when Daine put down the phone, Numair stormed in, his face as black as a thunder cloud. Although Daine knew that it was suicidal to talk to Numair at this point of time, she had to remind him of the important research meeting that was in half an hour’s time. She could not afford him not going to a meeting again or turning up late, especially when the research meeting was to thrash out ideas for the upcoming product launch.

“Mr Salmalin, you have a research meeting at 2.30pm,” Daine said cautiously.

He abruptly stopped and glared at her, reacting as if she had just slapped him. “Very good Ms. Sarrasri, now if you only know how to properly handle calls,” he drawled sarcastically. “Common sense. Common sense would tell you that if a person tells you she’s going overseas for a month, she will be uncontactable! If you know that calls cannot be returned easily, you should let it through. Just like if my mother was to call me on her death bed, you let it through and not tell her to call back. Just like if the fire department calls to tell you that my house is on fire, you let them through and not tell them to call back. Common sense woman, common sense! Is that too much to ask from you?”

Daine’s heart stopped during his rant and she stared at him nervously. Her blue-grey eyes blinked at him and Numair felt like he had just kicked a puppy. He sighed, she looked like such a naïve greenhorn that Onua had picked from off the country side. With strands of brown hair escaping from its restrictive bun and chunky black spectacles that had a tendency to fall down her nose. Dressed in simple work clothes that looked from the thrift shop. No wonder his mother was hard pressed to believe that she was his fiancé.

He stalked off to his office and snapped defensively, “At the same time, you’re improving your telephone skills, improve your wardrobe as well, you are representing Tortall Inc.”

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After Selda gently put down the phone, she smiled to herself. A timid voice queried, “I thought Level B4 is where they keep the confidential scientific records of their research findings?”

Selda shot a killer glare at the Office Assistant that was nervously clutching some papers for her to sign at the doorway of her office. “And when do you make it a habit to eavesdrop on people’s conversation? Is your hearing as bad as your manners? I said level 44.”

The Bet

2006-04-21T06:44:00.000-07:00

THE BET

Tamora Pierce owns all, naturally. A One-shot. Except a bit of OOCness. This is set in Alternative Universe, NOT Tortall. Does not follow books!

Warning: this is one of my more mature fics. Have implied stuff. But if you can read Life Mates comfortably, you can take this fic.

As usual, blogspot can't take my formatting when I copy and paste from microsoft word, so if you want the italics, etc, check out on ff.net

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How can something so good feel so bad at the same time?

Daine breathed in deeply, inhaling the comforting smell of soap and spices. A smell uniquely belonging to Numair. She was comfortably sprawled over his warm body, and his arm was rather possessively around her waist.

She bit her lip, how she wished she did not take up the bet! She would not have crossed his path so… intimately if she had not. Although she and Numair were both studying at the same university, they were in separate faculties that were notorious for their rivalry. Faculty for the Gifted and faculty for the Wild Magic. Up till recently, it had all been rather childish and playful rivalry. Silly pranks between the different faculties. In fact, during orientation, it was a tradition that each faculty would require its newbies to play a prank on the other faculty. Numair first became well-known for having played one of the best pranks for his year. He had laid a cold spell on all the toilet bowls in the Wild Magic faculty and its hostels. Giving a freezing and shocking chill to all those who had to use the latrines. It had taken a week before the Gifted Professors could lift the spell. Indeed, it was just the first sign of Numair’s brilliance and power. He quickly became popular with his easy-going and charming nature, coupled with his swoon-worthy looks. It helped that he topped the Gifted class and was well on the way to getting his much-coveted Black Robe status. He was even on friendly terms with the king and other high ranking officials and mages who often spoke to him for advice or help.

Such an elevated person would have scarcely crossed her path, a junior, if not that she was one of the best students in the Wild Magics faculty. They had worked on the occasional project, but had not interacted with each that often, being part of different teams. She had eyed him at the distance when her course mates pointed him out. Let’s just say human lust knows no boundaries between faculties.

The unfortunate bet started when she and Numair had worked together on building and fortifying the walls around the Royal Palace. She and her colleagues had rallied the different animals and immortals to help in its construction, while Numair, leading a team of mages, had placed powerful defensive spells. Some people viewed the Gifted mages as far superior to the Wild Mages. Unfortunately, some Gifted mages shared that sentiment and all was brought to boil when Alanna, a member of the Gifted mages team, had remarked that Gifted Mages were better than Wild Mages. Despite most of the back-breaking work done by Wild mages, the wall was to be credited to the Gifted mages. Perhaps it was the jug of beer Daine had consumed or some faculty pride that Alanna had stoked. Whatever it was, somehow Alanna had dared and made a bet with Daine.

To seduce Numair.

Perhaps it was because Numair was the epitome and shining example of a successful Gifted Mage.

Perhaps it’s because Alanna had remarked that female Wild Mages had little appeal compared to Gifted Mages, wallowing with animals all day.

Perhaps because Alanna had bet her 100 gold nobles and a public declaration of Wild Mages being better than Gifted Mages at the upcoming graduation ceremony.

Perhaps because Alanna and Numair were going to graduate this year and she was probably never going to see them again.

Whatever it was, Daine agreed. It was no hardship really, in fact, Daine found it pleasurable to interact with Numair. She had levered on their project to find excuses to spend time with him. Excuses became reasons. Concocted meetings became habit. Soon, they were seeking each other out naturally. Although they were from different background and ideals, somehow, they just clicked. She started looking forward to spending time with him, memory of the bet far far away from her mind. Until she saw Alanna wink at them one day when they were eating lunch under a tree in the forest.

Daine closed her eyes. Oh how she wished she could rub away the bet. She had no doubt that if Numair ever found out, he would be incensed. Furious. She knew any self-respecting person would be and Numair had a healthy dose of confidence. She wondered if he would believe her if she told the truth. That it started out as a bet, but somehow along the way she fell in love with him.

Love? Daine blinked, where did that idea come from? L-o-v-e? Did she feel that seriously? Sure, she definitely felt lust, as amply demonstrated by last night. Like. Yes. Daine very very like Numair. But love? She could not quite pin point when the change of heart had started. Was it when he had stopped Joren from making disparaging remarks about her? Was it when he had come out in the rain with her, to help her rescue a trapped animal under a tree? Was it when he remembered her favourite play and had secretly bought box tickets when the famous acting troupe had come into the city? Or was it in the small things like how he would automatically give her his portion of fish because he knew she liked it? Or was it in the small touches he liked to give? An absent minded brush of fingers across her hair or a small touch on her back or shoulder when he came into the room.

She groaned and rubbed her head against Numair’s bare chest. What did she get herself into? Numair was hardly known to be a one-girl kind of guy, judging by the rumours he was quite a ladies’ man. If she had not heard it from reliable sources, she would not have quite believed it. For during the time she had spent with him, he had been quite attentive and signs were that he was celibate for quite some time. Perhaps he was done sowing wild oats? Whatever it was, she just didn’t want this to be a one-night’s stand.

The arm tightened around Daine and she looked up. Numair captured her mouth in a long deep kiss, bringing other feelings and pleasant memories of last night into mind.

Suddenly, the door to Daine’s room slammed open. The couple broke apart and Daine stared in shock at Onua. Luckily, Numair had covered the sheets over them before they had slept last night.

Onua whooped and said, “I was wondering what happened to you guys after the Midsummer Night’s dance last night! Congratulations Daine for winning the bet! We must so go shopping with the money after you get it from Alanna. Wild Magics rule!!”

Daine gaped, “ONUA!!”

“Oops! Sorry, sorry!” Onua said unrepentantly, and shut the door. Daine did not know where to look, what to do. Onua was another Wild Mage working with them on the project and had been there when Alanna had made the bet. She had not known of Daine’s different feelings or change of heart.

A long awkward silence fell.

‘I guess this is the end,’ Daine thought, blinking, willing herself not to tear. She started to move to get out of the bed, when Numair’s arm pulled her towards him and in a smooth practiced roll, had her under him. His weight trapped her onto the bed where they had consummated their relationship last night.

He gently tapped her cheek. “Well, well.” She averted her eyes, not daring to look at him.

“I, I… am sorry…,” Daine stuttered.

He said rather mildly, “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Tension was thick in the air.

Daine gulped, and blinked rapidly, “I don’t think you’ll believe me anyway…”

“Try me,” he said firmly and roughly.

“It, it started out that way, Alanna made a bet with me about you and I was drunk, angry that she insulted Wild Mages and I accepted. But it changed as I spent more time with you, I started to fall in lo- like you and it’s just crazy. And all this is crazy and I’m stuttering like an idiot and I should just get out of here,” Daine gushed and tried to squirm out from his possessive weight.

Numair gently but firmly held Daine’s face in his long hands as his thumbs gently brushed away the tears forming at the edge of her eyes. “Stop that,” he said sharply as she squirmed even harder. “Or we are going to be doing more than just talking.” She instantly froze, suddenly aware of his sudden other interest.

“So, Veralidaine Sarrasri,” Numair said, “the most important question is… do you love me or is this just a game to you?” She looked up at him in surprise. He didn’t look angry, just serious and intent.

“Why?” Daine asked, her blue grey eyes widening in surprise. “Aren’t you angry? Aren’t you going to slap me or something?”

“Don’t avoid the question,” Numair said sternly.

“Humph!” Daine snorted. “You can easily cast a truth or compelling spell to find out, can’t you?”

Numair frowned at her and said sternly, “I will never do that to you. Don’t even suggest such an idea. Surely you don’t think I interfered in our relationship with magic.”

“No,” Daine said firmly and quickly. Numair may be a lot of things, but he was an honourable man. Which was perhaps one of the reasons why she adored him so. “And…” she held her breath, thinking, she had nothing to lose anyway. “Yes to your other question…”

A smile played around Numair’s lips and he said, “Hmm… to what question?”

Daine frowned at him, the tightness around her heart began to loosen. “You know what I mean. Don’t be mean. You haven’t answered my question as well.”

“Fair enough,” Numair said and looked into her eyes intently. “Because I love you. And…” he nuzzled her neck. “I can think of more pleasurable ways to punish you and for you to make up to me for your rather… unorthodox motivations…”

“You love me?” Daine said, stunned. “But how?”

“From the moment, I saw you scold off a gifted mage for abusing his horse in the University stables,” Numair murmured, becoming pre-occupied in kissing her neck.

“But, that was last year!” Daine gasped.

“Hmm… I have been observing you then,” Numair muttered. “Now then,” he raised his head and looked at her surprised face, “Why don’t we move onto other matters? I believe I still need convincing of how repentant you are of your actions.”

“Hmm…” Daine said, her eyes alit with joy as she pulled him down towards her.

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“Here’s your hundred gold nobles.” Coins clinked as a bag of money passed hands.

Alanna shook her head. “How far the mighty has fallen. What happened to the ladies man I know huh? Resorting to this underhanded tactics. You must really be in love to put in so much effort and to sacrifice your reputation like this. You know news of the bet has spread around.”

Numair grinned at Alanna, “I wouldn’t have been able to get Daine interested in me otherwise. We move in very different circles. But, thank you for a job well done, in provoking Daine to taking up your bet.”

Alanna snorted, “If it wasn’t for the fact that I knew you were serious about her I wouldn’t have done it. Seduce you indeed. Huh? This better not be a plan to get laid.”

“Don’t insult me,” Numair harrumphed. “Of course it is not! I would never do that. Besides,” he reached into his pocket and showed Alanna a box. “I plan to ask her to marry me when I graduate and am able to support her and myself.”

Alanna gasped and examined the ring. “It’s beautiful.”

Numair grinned, “It’s a family heirloom passed to the wife of the oldest son whom he loves. A bit of a romantic story behind it actually. The ring has very powerful protections inlaid into it and is only given to the lady he loves. It was a bit of a ruckus a few generations back when my male relative refused to give it to his wife in an arranged marriage.”

“Well,” Alanna said, “you better hold up your end of the bargain.”

“Sure, sure,” Numair said good-naturedly, “I will publicly declare that you are the best Gifted Mage around and even better than me.”

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Hope you liked it and the bit of twist at the end. Taking a brief break from all the studying and exercise some writing muscle. Wrote this fic quickly so you’re free to point out any errors. Back to studying for me! Jia you! After exams will hopefully update BSNS and WI.