The Nearness of You
A/N: An excuse to write Hel and Schoen to old time, WWII love songs.
^__^
°°°°°
It's not the pale moon that excites me
That thrills and delights me
°°°°°
It was... quiet. Not that the silence was a bad thing, oh no---it was
more than welcome inside the facilities. It was just something that the
woman didn't generally associate with her line of work---nor her
previous job before.
It was late. Sighing, the woman brushed another strand of dark hair out
of her eyes. Another long night wasted with no progress made at all.
It almost made her question why she did these sorts of things, and why
she pushed herself so.
The image of a shapely blonde woman came to mind, with a small smile and
lovely eyes. A woman who didn't smile often, as memory recalled, but
she was pleasant company.
A sigh left the dark-haired woman's lips. No, she could not quit now.
People were waiting on her... They were the ones she wanted to see
again, not these formulas and experiments. And if she ever wanted to
see their faces again, she'd have to work now.
Something began to hiss. The woman looked up sharply, the light
reflecting off her glasses. Somewhere over on the laboratory tables,
something was reacting.
She was there in an instant, her white lab coat unbuttoned all the way.
It may have seemed unprofessional, but as she was the only one in the
building... and at two in the morning, at that... She hadn't a problem
dressing like that. Had there been even the possibility that someone
might be in the building, she'd have done it up.
One glance at the instruments, and she saw it. The green, bubbling
liquid held above the open flame of the Bunsen Burner made her swear
louder than she had in years.
"No!" she hollered, turning off the gas and trying to remove the beaker
without taking the time to grab any tools or even a set of gloves. The
glass burned her hand and she dropped it immediately, boiling hot green
liquid went flying everywhere. Torn between biting the skin on back of
her hand to try and draw her attention away from the pain and swearing
about the mess, the woman could only groan loudly.
"Damn it," she said at last. The molten mess was still bubbling---the
result of being boiled at a temperature well over 135 degrees Celsius.
Sighing again, she bit the back of her injured hand and looked around.
It would take time to clean up, and time was something she did not have
an endless supply of.
Another wasted night in the laboratory, it seemed. Looking back at her
desk, she saw the single, framed photo sitting there and sighed softly.
"I'm... sorry, for what it's worth, Schoen," she said at last before
turning to look upon the mess in disgust once more. Today had hardly
been worth living.
°°°°°
Oh, no
It's just the nearness of you
°°°°°
She was late. Again.
The blonde's eyes narrowed dangerously and her lips pulled into a sneer.
It was days like these when she couldn't remember why she bothered to
put up with such things in the first place. The scientist had made a
nasty habit of tramping out early in the morning and coming in late at
night. It was annoying as all hell for the model, particularly when
sleep was one of the few creature comforts she had left.
A low growl escaped her throat. The woman was feeling particularly
animalistic and bitter today, having had her slumber destroyed twice in
the morning and then with Hel being so late tonight. And it wasn't only
that, oh no. There were other factors, each that induced more anger as
she thought back on them.
Frustrated beyond words, she let out a short yell and threw the nearest
object at her side into the wall---and it happened to be the alarm
clock. She scowled at the now broken, beeping machine, feeling no
regret or pity whatsoever. And why should she? It was only an
inanimate object, after all.
An object that belonged to her employer.
Her eyes closed and her brow furrowed. Oh, shit. It would be a
difficult task to explain the clock's destruction, though her
lightning-quick temper would obviously back her up. It wasn't entirely
her fault, after all; it was Hel's, too. If she'd only been back on
time... even just for the blonde's sake. They might've been able to---
The blonde's eyes opened in a flash. No. This was not happening. She
only cared because it would be money out of her own pocket, not because
it was Hel. She was a beautiful sight to behold; and Hel, well...
Her teeth barred, and she pouted bitterly. "Dammit," she hissed,
crossing her arms over her, ahem, bountiful chest. She'd always loved
to think of herself as a cut above the rest, after all; and everyone
else should know it, too. Her own philosophy had worked for years, and
she wouldn't end it now.
Of all the things she'd been exposed to, this was one topic she'd have
rather left disclosed.
"You stupid, stupid woman," the buxom blonde let out at last. She spun
away from the bedside table, huffing bitterly and folding her arms
tighter across her chest. Things were not supposed to turn out this
way; not in the least. She was supposed to have been famous for more
than just working in Kourin and Schreient. And perhaps she was---but to
few.
Another scowl flit over her face. As quickly as she could, she had the
light off and was rolled onto her back. Sleep never came easy---not
when one thought as much as she did. And while she had thought of what
the insomnia might do to her looks, she feared more for the subject of
such late-night thoughts. Surely she was going mad---or worse.
"I won't fall in love again," she said too loudly. "I won't!"
And without another word, she turned onto her side. Sleep was her only
escape.
°°°°°
It isn't your sweet conversation
That brings this sensation
°°°°°
Eighteen past four in the morning. She was due to be working in less
than three hours, which left her with no time at all for anything. If
it wasn't for the aches and pains of her long day, she might not have
bothered laying down at all. Two hours was hardly worth it---there'd be
an hour's worth of work waiting for her at six, her regularly scheduled
'waking.'
One hand moved to remove the pince-nez from her face, and the other ran
through her own hair. It was dirty and sweaty, but she hadn't the time
to properly shower now. She'd do it later, after a bit of a nap.
Her lab coat was deposited on the back of a chair, assuring herself that
it would be pressed later. Her shoes had been left near the door, and
the house shoes were a welcome change from her usual high heels.
Her back felt stiff, and the idea of a long, hot shower was tempting.
Food was not even close to her mind now, despite not having eaten for
almost twenty-four hours now. It was only sleep and that rush of
running water.
Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes and pressed her hands over them.
A shower would be dangerous if she was this tired. What if she were to
fall asleep and then fall? She could hit her head, bleed to death, or
possible even drown in the standing water. No, the dark-haired woman
decided, it would have to wait until she'd rested up.
There was nothing left to do but set the alarm and fall to sleep. It
wouldn't be hard; she'd probably be out before her head even touched the
pillow, with any luck.
Of course, she'd never been blessed by Lady Luck before, and it was
doubtful that tonight should be any different.
The groan that threatened to pass her lips was suppressed. No, it
wouldn't do to complain now. She only worked as hard as she did to cure
them all, and to go on about it... She would look like she didn't care,
and such was just the opposite.
She loved them.
It was easy to admit it to herself. Not a day went by that they weren't
far from her mind, and she liked it that way. It made things easier for
her when work went late or she began to question the reasoning behind
everything.
Something gold glittered from behind the doorframe. The woman froze in
mid-step. It couldn't possibly be---there was no way---was it?
"Schoen?" she questioned. Her pale eyes tried to see in the darkness,
but it was impossible. And even if it were, she wasn't entirely sure
that she'd want to see the blonde female. The younger woman had a
temper on her, and she struck true with that whip of hers. Oh, yes,
hitting her own leader would have dire consequences, but the woman with
the black hair was uncertain that she could punish her to the same
extent as others in her past.
It was because she loved her.
The gold twisted then, and the woman saw it for what it was; a length of
sequin-covered cloth. She wasn't going to ask who owned it, because the
answer seemed very clear to her.
Her eyes closed and then opened again slowly. Now was not the time to
muse on such topics. It was time to sleep and stay in bed... For
another two hours, at least.
°°°°°
Oh, no
It's just the nearness of you
°°°°°
Dark. As could have been expected.
The familiar sneer was on her lips again. The blonde woman really
hadn't any patience to begin with, and even less at night. Working at
night had never bothered her too badly that she couldn't do the job and
do it properly, but there were always nasty little side effects that she
never wished to mention again as long as she lived.
Her eyes narrowed. It wasn't that she was too prideful, though that
came into account as well. No, it was something more that she couldn't
name---some sort of force that she couldn't (and didn't want to) name.
Again. Black. The scowl on her face deepened as she continue to force
her way down the halls, all grace forgotten. In her mind, she knew that
this was the same as any runway, any catwalk, that she might ever have
set foot on, but it was black. It was night. There was a chill from an
open window, and there were no flashbulbs or crowds. How could it be
the same at all?
There was an objective. The goal she needed to reach, desperately.
Weren't they the same in that aspect?
Her eyes narrowed further. No, how could they be, and what a stupid
question. Any thought she could use to clutter her mind with, the
better. Even though she was supposed to be focusing on the task at
hand, she knew where her mind would drift, and that would not do.
No, she needed to be in control. At least for now.
All that needed to be done was simple, though the fact that she was
sneaking about to do it made her adrenaline rush. Yes, that was
it---step here, not there, for that floorboard creaks. Beware of the
throw rugs, for the hardwood floors are dangerous, especially at night.
Her step became quicker, and her stride more perfectly measured. This
was what she'd lived for, after all; the glitz and glory of perfection.
Her lips tugged upwards into the perfect smirk. The doorway was in
sight. Stepping lightly, she pressed the door open. Relief (or
something like it) fell over her body as she saw that the only
inhabitant was already sleeping. Leaning down, she placed her hands on
her own spoilage of war and gave a firm tug. It moved easily, and she
smiled coyly.
"Just you wait now, Hel," she thought to herself, eyes bright. "Now
you'll learn what it means to keep me up at night... "
°°°°°
When you're in my arms
And I feel you so close to me
All my wildest dreams come true
°°°°°
Her eyes opened slowly, and she let out a groggy groan. Hel sat up
slowly, wondering why it was that she had awoken. It couldn't have been
because she'd slept for too long---the alarm hadn't even gone off yet.
Warily, she looked up and saw sunlight flitting in through her window,
and her eyes narrowed. Bracing herself, she looked down at her bedside
table to see the alarm clock. There it was, blank faced.
She didn't understand, not at first. And then she saw that the plug was
placed daintily on top of it, and she swore as loud as she could.
"Shit!"
It only took that second for her to be on her feet, clambering out of
bed and into the hallway. Her hair had to be sticking out at odd
angles, and she couldn’t even be sure of the time. She was late for
work, however, and that was more than apparent.
"Damn it all," she was growling as she stormed past the next
door---Neu's room, and as always, that door was locked. How late was
she, anyway? No telling now. She couldn't say that the extra sleep
hadn't been a welcome change, for it had. Still---what about the lab?
If she didn't arrive shortly---if she didn't figure out what time it
was---
With a sudden yelp, she realized that she was being pulling backwards.
A growl and glare were thrown over her shoulder, trying to figure out
just what (or whom) had taken her from around the waist and was now
pulling her backwards.
"I was trying to sleep, Hel," the irritated voice cut in. The
dark-haired woman's eyebrow rose. "Don't go smashing through the halls
so early."
"Early?" the scientist quipped, twisting on her heel in order to look
down upon the lovely face of the ex-model, Schoen. Something about that
made her uneasy, but the anger was bubbling over first. "How early do
you think it is?"
The blonde sighed loudly. "I don't know, probably almost nine."
Hel swore again. Schoen glared.
"You're working too hard," she said, and the dark-haired woman let out a
short laugh.
"I'm working too hard? At least I---"
She was cut off by the blonde woman. Rather, the actions of the bosomy
blonde. Without even looking at the older woman, she turned and set
herself on the far side of her queen-sized bed. It was huge for one
person, and no one else saw the point of it, but Hel suspected it had
something to do with the name 'queen.'
But that was all beside the point. Eyes narrowing to dangerous slits,
the scientist took one large, angry step closer to the bed...
... And was promptly pulled into it.
Her eyes widened and she started a weak form of protest. No, this could
never do, her mind bellowed. Schoen must never know how she felt---and
laying like this, she'd give it away for sure. How would the pretty
blonde retaliate for such thoughts, anyway? Lashings came to mind, and
Hel didn't want to think on that any further.
"Schoen," she began slowly, but was cut off yet again.
"Oh, shut up, Hel," Schoen muttered in reply, tugging the covers up and
around herself. "I'm trying to sleep."
The dark-haired woman pulled a face. "I need to go to---"
"No you don't."
One eyebrow rose. "Excuse me?"
The blonde sighed again and listed herself up slightly. The older woman
could not help but notice how low her low-cut nightgown was, but it was
to her own credit that she did not redden at all. Staring was to be
expected, perhaps---either that or Schoen didn't care.
Or was it that she didn't mind... ?
The blonde cast Hel a smirk and leaned over her. For a moment, Hel did
not understand---why was this buxom female doing this?---but as she
pulled back, the chemist found herself under the starched sheets and
thick comforter.
The answer did not come in words. The model instead threw herself on
top of the dark-haired woman and smirked as sardonically as ever,
thoroughly confusing Hel.
"What---are you---?" she began, unable to form even the simplest of
phrases. She knew the heat on her cheeks was not just that there were
too many covers, or the intense body heat. Yes, she knew the real
reason---and apparently, so did the sadistic blonde.
"I've seen your stares, Hel," she hissed through clenched teeth. Her
chartreuse eyes glinted as her hands and perfectly painted nails wrapped
around the older woman's neck. There wasn't enough pressure to provide
any significant damage, though it certainly had Hel's heart rate up.
"And I've noticed the way you act. I'm not stupid, Hel." She almost
sounded betrayed, though her actions said anything but. Her eyes
darkened. "I know what's going on."
But before the intellectual could do anything to remove the stranglehold
her team mate had upon her, the blonde applied more pressure. It was
all the older woman could do to continue to breathe calmly and forcibly
ignore the hands about her neck.
Her eyes narrowed, darkening as well. This would be a bloody perfect
ending, and a damned ironic one at that. How she'd managed to land
herself in this position... She could only blame herself for being so
careless and absent-minded. It would serve her right to die... Just as
he did. Just like... her Masafumi...
But Schoen had loved him too, hadn't she? Yes, they all had. So when
Hel's love had changed hands, it hadn't been that surprising. Schoen
had always been aesthetically pleasing, and though she had that temper
and that forked tongue, it was a welcome change from the idiotic bimbos
most supermodels were in actuality. Perhaps it had been the lifestyle
change that had changed her---or perhaps she'd always been so unwilling
to bend.
It made her real. She wasn't just on a pedestal any longer---and
living, breathing, thinking... That was what made her special.
It was why she was Schoen.
Her eyes closed, and she felt the growl in her throat. It was an
embarrassment to Masafumi's name that she die here---though a testament
to his genius that it would be Schoen's doing. One could not deny that
much.
The low scoff was heard, but the sadist's face unseen. In fact, Hel
knew little more than the fact that there were nails pressed tightly
against the skin of her neck and that Schoen was pinning her down. Her
own mouth was pulled into a disgusted sneer, one Schoen may or may not
currently be mirroring. She just couldn't be sure.
It would be over in a moment, she'd assured herself. Just a hell of a
lot of pressure---she'd probably let out some sort of sound as her air
passage was blocked off completely---and then...
Hot air whooshed past her ear. In that split second, her eyes were open
wide and she was face-to-face with the vast majority of Schoen's hair.
The only thing she could realize now---other than that the blonde's hand
were moving lower, the tips of her manicured nails brushing against her
collarbone---was the fact the blonde was now speaking in a husky, thick
voice.
"You're such a horrible poker face," she was murmuring. It almost made
Hel jump out of her skin to hear the words. "I could see it coming a
mile away... and I never said I didn't welcome it, Hel."
The chemist's head jerked to the side in an attempt to make eye contact
with the blonde. "What?! What did you just say?!"
The smirk returned to Schoen's face. "You heard me. I said---"
And suddenly Hel had the strength to lift her oppressor and flip her
onto her back, cheeks reddening with both anger and embarrassment. Her
brow furrowed as the blonde let out a sharp cry of dismay, clearly not
expecting to be overthrown so easily. Ha! It would teach her not to
forget that Hel had been in the Defense Forces.
"Why you---" Schoen began to hiss, but she was quickly cut off by Hel's
mouth on hers. Her short-lived protest wavered and fell short of
anything dynamic as her slitted eyes fell closed. She could almost give
in---yes, it wouldn't be so bad---when Hel's full force kicked in and
she was suddenly held down at four points.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" the blonde woman snapped,
her face twisting into one of detesting. But all that the woman holding
her down would do was smile her satanic smile and lean down to press her
face very close to Schoen's ear.
"You'll pay for toying around with me, Schoen," she hissed. "And this
is something I'm more than willing to miss work for... "
The blonde snickered. "Oh, really?"
Hel nodded slowly as she pressed her lips against the younger woman's
jawline. "Oh, make no mistake about that one, Schoen. It's pure fact."
And with a low laugh, the blonde tilted her face up, smiling softly.
The dark-haired woman returned the gesture and pulled the blankets over
both of their heads in one deft moment.
Work be damned.
°°°°°
I need no soft light to enchant me
If you'll only grant me
The right to hold you ever-so tight
And to feel in the night
The nearness of you
°°°°°
END
°°°°°
°°°°°
A/N: I still believe that the song that fits Schoen best if "You're
Dead" (Alkaline Trio), if only for that one line - "No one is your equal
because you're the Queen of Pain." So true... so true.
---Gangsta Videl
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