College Daze
So this is something I started for Sandy ages ago at her request, and then it turned into a birthday fic of sorts (see how old it is?) and I just now gave it a little edit and am deciding to post it.
Title: College Daze
Who: Zoisite, Nephrite.
Rating: R?
Verse: Drabblender/Merry May.. THIS NEEDS A REAL NAME!
A/N: The prompt I started with was Zara and Nixon college bromance..... then it turned into this. I don't even know? I think I stole bits of Sandy's life (and shamelessly a bit of mine -- you'll see!)? So I'll just apologize for everything. :P
Walking across the Quad of the University of Washington for the first--or second--time was quite an impressive sight. The brick walkways crisscrossed the plush, vibrant green grass and the cherry blossom trees were no longer the pale pink of spring but a riot of red, gold, orange and bronze. The day was crisp and cold, but no rain--though the sky looked as if it threatened a drizzle at any moment. The air was fresh and clean and stung your lungs just a bit when you took a deep breath.
Zara Logan found the entire place utterly charming, and she couldn’t be happier to be starting her first semester. The long drive from Spokane, all the way across the state, to Seattle had been grueling, made all the more painful by the presence of her parents, but now she thought it well worth it.
She could still see her mother’s tearful goodbye after they’d settled her into her dorm room, and her father’s indignant sighs as he looked around the campus.
“I never thought I would live to see the day when a Logan became a Husky; your grandfather must be turning over in his grave,” he’d scoffed, shaking his head.
“Gabe! Who cares which team she supports? What about the fact she’s going to school nearly three hundred miles away! We’ll only see her at Christmas.” Her mother had sniffed loudly.
“Nonsense, Tracy, she’ll be back for all the holidays, won’t you, Kiddo?” Gabe turned toward his daughter, smiling.
“It’s a six hour drive, Dad. I’ll make it back home when I can. Besides I was thinking I should probably get a job, just to cover random expenses.”
“Like parties?” Gabe narrowed his eyes. “You’re here to study.”
“No,” Zara sighed. “I just might want some extra money for clothes, or going around town. And I might have my food card, but coffee is expensive, Daddy.” She smiled sweetly.
“I suppose,” he hummed. “I guess I shouldn’t be too upset if you’re taking initiative.” He returned her smile and leaned in to hug her.
“Take care! I want a call every weekend, all right?” Her mother said, hugging her tight.
Zara had watched them leave, waving shyly, hoping none of her fellow students would notice the embarrassing red and white WSU cougar in the back window of her dad’s Ford F-450. Letting out a relieved breath once they out of sight, Zara had turned back toward her dorm, ready to start her new life in Seattle.
Her first day of classes had been interesting, but tiring, and now she was heading toward the cafeteria for lunch before her afternoon classes. As Zara walked along, she let herself enjoy the day; she closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, listening to the sounds around her.
Zara could hear people laughing and talking, some shouts and curses from the group of guys playing ultimate Frisbee. In fact the shouts were getting louder, Zara blinked open her eyes a moment before a flying disk could make contact with her face, leaning to the side slightly, she reached out and plucked the object from the air.
A young man came jogging up to her then; tall, muscular with oodles of wavy brown hair and a smile she was sure some her friends back home would call “panty melting.” He fixed the smile on her now as he stopped by her side.
“Sorry about that, my friend was a little overzealous with his last throw. But that was an amazing catch!”
“No, problem. I wasn’t exactly paying attention like I should.” Zara shrugged and handed over the Frisbee. She turned away from the young man and started on her way again. “Have a good game!” she called over her shoulder.
“Hey! If you ever want to play, we’re here every Monday!” He called after her, his voice booming across the quad.
***
Zara did notice the same group of guys in the Quad the following Monday on her way to the cafeteria. She didn’t stop to play, but the same auburn haired man caught sight of her and waved hello. She returned the favor and carried on as usual. She only ever saw him in the Quad, none of her req. classes and figured he must be an upperclassman.
The third Monday, though, was drizzling and the group had the good sense not to play in the rain. When Zara entered the dining hall she saw the rowdy group taking up a large table by the windows. They were engaging in some activity that involved building a pyramid out of French fries… the structure was quite impressive, she had to admit.
“BACK UP!” One of them yelled, and Zara recognized him as the one who waved at her. At his barked order his friends retreated a good distance from the table, all smiling and snickering. “All right men, THERE SHE BLOWS!” he bellowed and pushed down on something at the end of the table. He had barely gotten the last word out when the French fry pyramid erupted like a volcano, spewing ketchup all over the table.
This seemed to have been the desired outcome as they all exploded with laughter, cheering and congratulating one another. Though their celebrations were short lived as a few of the cafeteria attendants came over, stern and annoyed.
“We’ll clean it up! We always do!” The auburn haired one was saying, looking completely unabashed. This barely appeased the workers, but finally they nodded and headed back to work.
“Well, boys, another grand success!” The man smiled widely, grabbed a ketchup drenched fry from the table and popped it in his mouth. Zara shook her head, vaguely disgusted, and started moving toward the lunch line when a large shadow fell over her. Looking up she met light brown eyes, dancing in amusement.
“Hey,” he said.
“Uh… hi.” Zara bobbed her head awkwardly. “Bye,” she mumbled and started for the food again. The shadow followed her.
“You know, you really do have some skills. You should play with us.” He spoke casually, hands in the pockets of his faded jeans, broad shoulders slightly hunched forward.
“Right… look, I’m not sure if this thing normally works for you.“ Zara circled her hand in front of his chest and frowned. “But it isn’t working now.”
“Huh?” Thick brows knitted together, lips puckering slightly in confusion. “Oh! No, no. I’m not coming onto you. Really. I just want a new team member.” He smiled at her, wide and friendly. “Besides, you’re not my type. I like brunettes.”
“Uh huh, so you like yourself?” Zara crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.
“Pretty much!” He grinned wider still and rocked on the balls of his feet. “I’m Nixon, by the way. Most people call me Nix, though.” He shrugged a shoulder and stuck out his hand.
“I’m Zara,” she said and took his hand, shaking it slowly. Something about him put her at ease, though she couldn’t really explain what it was or why.
“Great to meet you!”
Despite herself, Zara found herself actually liking Nixon… idiotic behavior aside.
***
“Does it ever stop raining?”
“Do you ever stop whining?”
“Shut up, Nixon! That was a serious question, it’s been drizzling for the past three days. Does it ever stop?”
“No, welcome to fall in Western Washington. You can always head back east over the pass to your precious ‘seasons’, pfft! Who needs seasons? We have rainy, possible snow that sends the masses into a panic, and every once and awhile some sun! What more do you need?”
“You’re a freak, Nix. Possibly part amphibian, let’s see those toes… are they webbed?”
“Whatever, Cougar. Go home.”
“I’m not a Cougar! I’m attending the U-Dub for chrissake! That makes me a Husky, if you don’t believe me just ask my dad. He bleeds crimson and gray, and would happily tell you all about how his daughter defected.”
“I don’t think it’s healthy for blood to be gray, Zara. You should have him get that checked out.”
Zara stared at Nixon for a moment then threw herself backwards on her bed and pulled a pillow over her face, screaming. She had become fast friends with Nixon in the few months that she had known him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t annoy her half the time.
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon in mid-November, her dormmate was gone visiting her boyfriend, and Nixon had stopped by with coffee and donuts; of course that gesture only brought so much goodwill, and at the moment it was tapped out.
“Okay, fine. I’ll play nice, but you’ll always be a Cougar to me.” Nixon laughed and flopped down on the end of her bed, jostling her. She was sure he did it on purpose.
“I’ll be a ‘Cougar’ only when dating someone younger than me doesn’t mean dating jailbait.” Zara stuck her tongue at her friend.
“Good policy, that.” Nixon propped one arm behind his head, the other resting across his stomach. He looked totally relaxed, which meant he wouldn’t be leaving for a good long while. “Seriously, though, we do need to get you a date.”
“Why the sudden interest?”
“It’s not a sudden interest, I’ve been worrying over this for weeks now.”
“What in the hell, man?” Zara sat up and tried to grab her pillow, intending to whack Nixon across the face with it, but he continued talking as if she hadn’t just screamed.
“I know this great chick, Sandy, she works in Fremont. I think you would like her,” he said. Zara stopped as the words left his mouth. She stopped mid-swing, the pillow held above her head. Stopped thinking, stopped breathing. Just stopped.
“I.. huh? Wait, what?” she stuttered, finally lowering the pillow and cradling it against her chest. “Why would I want to go on a date with a girl?”
Slowly, deliberately, Nixon rolled onto his side and gave Zara a long look, eyes blinking owlishly. “Really?” He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s how you want to play it? You stare at Shawna Johnston’s ass more than I do when she‘s doing yoga in the Quad.”
“Only because you’re staring at her tits!”
“You make a valid point there, but you can’t say you don’t stare at her ass. AND,” he continued loudly when Zara opened her mouth to protest. “You flirt with Suzie at the café and she totally hooks you up with free scones. Do not deny.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Zara pouted and sank into herself slightly, using the pillow as a shield. “Is it obvious?” she whispered.
“What? That you like girls?” Nixon looked up at her for a moment, his normally sanguine features serious. “You haven’t come out?”
“No. I mean… I do. I am. I know I am, but back home. It just--” Zara stopped and heaved a shuddering sigh. “It’s just not something you talk about… it’s not an option,” she mumbled.
“Like at all?”
“No,” she shook her head quickly, like a bobblehead doll. “My parents are really religious, and like, Spokane is a big city and there’s a community there, I‘m sure…. but it wasn’t where I was. And if my dad was horrible about me coming here for school, I can’t even imagine what he would say if I told him I was a…. if I liked girls.”
“You can say it, you know?” Nixon sat up and patted her knee gently. “It’s not a bad thing or a bad word, and I certainly won’t judge you.” His eyes were so big and so encouraging, Zara took a deep breath and said the word she hadn’t ever thought about saying out loud.
“I’m a lesbian.”
“There you go, now want to get something to eat? I’m hungry!” Nixon smiled brightly at her and started scooting off the bed, before he moved too far away Zara stopped Nixon with a hand on his arm.
“Thanks,” she smiled and leaned forward, hugging him quickly. Nixon patted her back in return.
“Just make sure you don’t mack on any chicks I like, and we’re cool.” He laughed when she pulled back.
“Pig.”
“Whatever! Come on, let’s get food. You won’t melt in the rain.”
***
“You don’t have to do this, you know?”
“Hey, nice of you to give me the option after we’ve already driven across the Pass. Awesome!” Nixon gave Zara a double thumbs up and giant grin.
“Watch the road!” She squealed, hitting his arm until he put his hands back on the wheel.
“Wuss.”
“Yes, how dare I make you follow basic road rules. Such as watching the road with both hands on the wheel.” Zara frowned and slunk down in her seat, arms crossed.
“Oh, shit, calm down. It’s going to be okay.” He glanced at her, eyebrows knitted together.
“How you could possibly think any of this will, at any time, be ‘okay’?”
“Dude, this was your idea.”
“I was joking!”
“Too late now, babe,” he said condescendingly and reached over to pat her leg. Zara rolled her eyes, but she supposed he was doing her the biggest favor anyone could. She had honestly meant it as a joke when she’d suggested he play her boyfriend for her family. He’d agreed.
It had been her own fault, she knew. In roughly the year and half that she’d known him, Nixon had--for better or worse--become her best friend in the world. She was comfortable with him, maybe it was because he knew she was a lesbian or maybe it was just the strange, inexplicable feeling that she’d known him forever, but either way she knew she could be herself around him.
Of course with this wonderful friendship came her slip ups and loose tongue when talking to her family…. and of course they’d gotten the wrong idea.
During Christmas break she had been tired and on edge around her family, so when one cousin or another asked about her ’boyfriend’, she had replied, unthinking. Her father hadn’t been exactly pleased with the idea of her having a boyfriend he hadn’t met, so it had been agreed upon -- meaning she had been all but ordered -- that she and Nixon would head east of the mountains during summer break.
When she’d told Nixon all of this, he hadn’t really batted an eye. She would’ve lied and said they’d broken up, after all it was college and things didn’t necessarily last. Nixon had vetoed the idea, claiming this would be easier until she was ready to come out.
“Thank you,” she said as they turned down the side street that would lead to her parents’ house.
“What are friends for?” He shrugged carelessly. “Besides, I’d like to think if things were reversed you’d the same for me.”
“Absolutely.” She nodded resolutely. Nixon smiled, just a little half smile, but it lit up his features nonetheless.
“It will all be fine,” he said as he read the house numbers before the finding the correct one, and pulling into the driveway.
“Just remember, don’t smack me if I feel you up.” He laughed as he put the car into park and started to open the door.
“Just remember my dad will beat you if you try to feel me up.”
“Good point,” he laughed as he stepped out. Zara followed suit, opening her door to the arid Spokane air. Just as she kicking the door shut on Nixon’s green Subaru Forester, her family was already pouring out the front door.
Her mom and dad came first, happy their daughter was home. Next was her younger brother, Adam. He’d outgrown Zara at the age of fourteen and now, at sixteen, he was almost as tall as Nixon. He looked quite happy to see Zara, and that had her smiling. Her baby brother was definitely her favorite.
Then came Jacob, his normally dark blond hair bleached platinum from the hot summer days. He looked reserved and guarded, as he usually did, and was already casting skeptical looks toward Nixon‘s “UW“ t-shirt--this would be so much fun.
Lastly was her sister, Miriam. With darker hair like their father, her brows were thick, giving her a perpetually surly look. Though her frown didn’t do much to help matters, Zara thought. She walked slightly behind Jacob, her arms wrapped around her stomach, and barely spared Zara a glance. Since her relationship had ended a few a months ago, Zara was sure Miriam was seething with jealousy that her younger sister was bringing home a boy.
Zara stepped around the front of the car to greet her parents, giving them each a quick hug before slugging Adam in the arm and reaching up to ruffle his sunny blond hair.
“I’m so happy you made it here safely!” Her mother cried. “And you made great time! Must’ve gotten an early start, hm?” Zara nodded, deciding it best not to let Nixon’s speeding habit be known.
“And this is him, right? Of course it is! Who else would it be?” Tracy smiled widely and leaned close to whisper in Zara’s ear, “He’s really cute!”
“Yeah, Mom? Dad? This is Nixon my…. my, uh, boyfriend.” Zara held out her hand in a Vanna White pose, not really sure what else to say. She cast a fleeting look toward Nixon and felt a little ill when she saw him grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“Hello, I’m Nixon Barrowman. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Logan, Mrs. Logan.” He shook her father’s hand, met his firm gaze with a smile, then focused all his charm on her mother, while slipping a supportive arm around Zara’s waist.
“He doesn’t seem your type.” Zara turned toward Miriam, slipping away from Nixon and her parents, and tried to work her face into something she hoped was quizzical rather than worried.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s cute. Seems athletic,” Miriam said quietly, eyes focused on Nixon’s broad shoulders. “Very outgoing. I always pictured you with the little dweeby newspaper boys or the angry goth ones.”
“Nixon and I started out as friends.” Not a lie, Zara told herself. “We’ve gotten very close.”
“Well, good for you.” Miriam cast her one glance before stepping forward to introduce herself to Nixon.
“God this is going to be a long visit,” Zara mumbled under her breath while pinching the bridge of her nose, hoping to stem off a headache.
***
The morning after Zara and Nixon arrived at her parents house was rather nice, surprisingly. The breakfast table was full of Zara’s favorite things--warm Belgium waffles with fresh whipped cream, peaches picked from the tree in the backyard, and strawberries from a stand up the road.
Nixon had effectively charmed her mother and younger brother, and managed to put her father at ease -- the fact Nixon was so dedicated to his studies, and was planning on working at Boeing with his father was a major plus in Gabe’s mind. However it seemed her older siblings were not quite as sold on Nixon as the other Logans.
Zara had no idea what to make of Miriam -- though she never really did. Part of Miriam seemed intrigued by Nixon, because he was a handsome man--even Zara could admit that, despite the fact he wasn’t her type in anyway, shape, or form.
Jacob for his part seemed to look at Nixon as competition, but then again everything was a competition to Jacob.
“Oh, I’ve always played sports.” Zara glanced up at Nixon, deep in discussion with her eldest sibling. “Got a bunch of friends I play Ultimate with, good times.”
“Ultimate?” Jacob frowned, obviously doubting the legitimately of a sport he wasn’t familiar with. “I always preferred basketball, myself. I was varsity,” he said, obviously feeling pleased with himself. Zara held back a snort, when wasn’t he pleased with himself?
“Really?” Nixon peered at Jacob over the rim of his orange juice. “That’s awesome, man.”
“Do you play basketball, Nix?” Adam asked eagerly. He was obviously far more enamored with Nixon than Jacob, not that Zara faulted him for that.
“Oh, sure. I played in high school, was just the thing to do.” He shrugged and proceeded to down his glass in one, long gulp.
“Say,” Jacob started slowly. “Why not a friendly game? Nothing planned today, right?” He turned to Zara, practically willing her to follow along.
“Nope,” she said. She probably shouldn’t be encouraging things, but she knew no matter what she said now things had gone too far.
“Hey, can I play, too?” Adam looked like an overexcited puppy at the prospect. Zara had a sudden urge to reach out and pet his hair, but held back. Least he get mocked by Jacob.
“I suppose? Wait, I know. We can even things out. I’ll take Zara on my team, she’s fairly handy with a basketball, and you can play with Nixon? That seem fair?”
“Sure!”
Zara suppressed a sigh, and glanced toward Nixon. He was staring at an oblivious Jacob, eyes narrowed; quietly judging. He turned away as if he felt Zara looking at him, and smiled at her. It was far too bright and casual, and Zara knew that meant trouble. Of course it meant the trouble was directed at Jacob, and honestly, that was fine with her.
***
“Men.” Zara let out a puff of air before taking a sip from her water bottle. They’d been on the basketball court at the Y for lord knew how long, and she and Adam had long since been forgotten.
The game had started off simple enough, just a friendly game, until Jacob realized two things. First, how skilled Nixon was at the sport. Second, how competitive he was. Now the pair were playing a grueling one-on-one match full of trash talking and more testosterone than she could handle.
Adam seemed quite enthralled with the game as it was, and even Miriam--who had accompanied them for reasons Zara didn’t really want to ponder--seemed extremely interested. At least in Nixon’s performance.
Side eyeing her sister, Zara wrinkled her nose, then turned back just in time to watch Nixon feint to the right. Jacob fell for the move, Nixon whirled past and drove for the hoop with an easy layup. With that basket Nixon won the impromptu game, earning cheers from Adam and Miriam -- predictably.
Jacob was clearly displeased with the fact he lost, and Zara kept her eyes on him while he composed his face into something more friendly, though she could still see the strain around his eyes.
“Nice game.” He held out his hand which Nixon took, shaking it firmly. “You had to have been on a team in school.”
“Nah, man. Just lots of messing around with friends and playing NBA Jam on Xbox.” Nixon laughed, enjoying himself. Zara quietly wondered when the two would come to blows. It was only a matter of time….
“Well that was a great game!” Miriam chirped, rising from the benches lining one side of the court. She grabbed an extra bottle of water and a towel, handing both to Nixon with a wide grin.
Zara could barely keep from rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, great game,” Adam said, and Zara could tell he was disappointed to have missed out on the fun.
“Let’s do it again, yeah? We’re here for a while.” Nixon smiled at Adam, clapping him on the shoulder. Then he turned toward Zara and slung an arm around her shoulders.
“Ewww! You’re all sweaty.” She slapped him away.
“Come on, I’m sexy and you know it.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“You’re--” Zara started to say something horribly rude, as she usually did when he got cocky, but then she remembered they were ‘dating’ and stopped herself. “I like it better when you don’t smell like a dirty locker room.”
Nixon only grinned wider and kept his arm around her, sending her a saucy wink.
“Oh just kiss already,” Jacob mumbled.
“Awww!” Miriam cooed.
Nixon stopped for just a second, stopped moving and breathing. So did Zara. It was kind of inevitable, she supposed. But that really didn’t make it any easier. Turning toward her, his back to the others, Nixon smiled at her wanly. “Sorry,” he mumbled before tilting her backward and making a big show of the kiss.
However he kept his lips just the corner of her mouth, his actions covering it all. When he returned her to standing she felt a bit dazed, which she hoped lent a level of believably to it all. Though she was more dazed at how considerate her blockhead of a friend was.
Who knew?
***
The visit went quicker than Zara ever imagined it would, and it had been relatively okay. Nixon had toned things down so he and Jacob hadn’t gotten into a physical altercation of any kind. Though there was still time.
It was Saturday night and they were leaving Tuesday. Plenty of time, really.
That day was a huge Logan Family BBQ, including aunts and uncles and cousins. Zara was quite sure the party was a form of capital punishment, however Nixon seemed to having a fine time. Though he was always a social butterfly. Freak of nature.
Sipping her lemonade, Zara nearly jumped out of her skin with the backdoor banged open and Adam came marching out, a scowl darkening his face.
“Hey? What’s the matter?” she called before he got too far.
Adam whirled around, marched toward her, and plopped down heavily in the lawn chair that Nixon had long ago abandoned. “Dad is a fucking asshole!”
“Whoa, watch your mouth! What if mom heard?” Or their father for that matter.
“Well he is! I’m sixteen, I’m not a child, but he wants to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with. It’s bullshit.”
“What’s going on? And when did you get such a mouth?”
“I’m in high school?” He shrugged as if that explained it all. “I know this kid, Mike, dad doesn’t want me hang out with him anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s gay.”
“Are you shitting me?” Zara felt the blood drain from her face.
“Nope, and he was such a bastard about it, too. I don’t even think Mike IS gay, dad just thinks he is. Though I don’t even know what it matters--”
“It matters because it’s a sin, Adam! And I said this discussion was over.” Their father’s voice was low, obviously brooking no further argument.
“You can’t dictate who his friends are! He has to see them at school!”
“This doesn’t concern you, Zara. I will not have my boy hanging out some fa--”
“DAD! Don’t say that word.”
“This is my house and I will use whatever word I want for those gays.”
“Oh my God, Dad! You sound like you’re from a hundred years ago.” Zara didn’t realize she was standing, facing off against her father, until Nixon placed a hand on her shoulder.
“The bible states that it is a sin! There is no point discussing this! And it certainly doesn‘t concern you. I am the parent, Adam is my son.” Her father’s face was flushed, clearly still worked up from his argument with Adam. Zara felt heat rushing to her cheeks, anger boiling in her chest. She had disagreed with her father’s beliefs for a long time, but right now it felt like they were at the point of no return.
“It does concern me, Dad!” Zara closed her eyes as she yelled, fists clenched at her sides. “Because you are spouting off hate speech against people you don’t know! It concerns because I am one of those people!” She opened her eyes and met her father’s. “I’m a lesbian, Dad.”
By the time Zara finished speaking, most everyone gathered had grown quiet, several of them had gotten closer. Mainly her mother, and older siblings. Nixon remained steadfast at her said, his hand still on her shoulder.
“You’re a what?”
“I’m gay! Gay. Lesbian, lesbo, dyke. I like women more than men. Nixon is my friend, and he came here to lie for me, because I didn’t want to tell you. Because I couldn’t tell you! But I think I just realized I will never change your mind so you might as well know the truth. YOU RAISED A HOMO!” Zara was screaming at this point, but she didn’t care. Once the words left her mouth she couldn’t seem to stem them.
Her father appeared to be boiling, his face flushed and eyes narrowed. “I tried so hard to do right by you, by all of you! How could you just turn your back on your church and your family like that? Didn’t we teach you the right things? Didn’t we teach you not to do wrong?”
“I’m NOT DOING WRONG! I didn’t fucking choose this, this is who I am! If there’s a God, he’s the one who made me this way!” Zara was trembling now, her fury bubbling up until she could barely see straight. Though she was vaguely aware of her father’s hand being lifted, she closed her eyes, however the damning slap never came.
Opening her eyes again she found Nixon holding her father’s wrist, his knuckles white and shoulders tense.
“Let go of me, boy!”
“Sir, I am well aware this is your home and I am merely a guest, but I will not stand by and let you touch her. This is over. Give me five minutes to get our things and we’ll be gone.” Nixon’s eyes were hard, his voice low and full of authority. Zara had never seen him like that, never imagined he could be so commanding… almost like a general with his troops.
“Get the hell out of my house and never come back!” Her father spat, shaking off Nixon’s grip and turning toward the garage.
Zara wasn’t aware of anything, she felt numb now. She thought maybe Adam was hugging her, or it could’ve been her mother. She didn’t really know. She only came back to herself when she was in the car and it was already moving.
She turned toward Nixon, his face grim, lips a thin line, and opened her mouth to say thank you, but nothing came. He turned toward her, frowned a little deeper, and then flipped his signal, getting off the road.
Zara was shocked to realize how far from her parents house they were. Well into town and heading toward the highway. She blinked stupidly went Nixon threw the car into park and got out.
He moved around to the passenger side and opened her door. Zara didn’t know what to say or think, and could only make a strange squawk when he hauled her out of her seat. Nixon pulled her into a tight hug, his arms linking around her waist. Finally the realization of what had happened seemed to settle in, she linked her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder just as the tears started to come.
“Hey, it’ll be okay. I promise. It will be fine, you’ve got me. You’ll always have me.”
“Great, my dad hates me and I’m stuck with you forever.” Her voice was choked with tears and muffled against his shirt, but he laughed nonetheless.
“Nixon?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“ ‘Course, that’s what friends are for.”
***
“Mornin’”
“Don’t.” Zara let out a loud yawn, gripping her mug of coffee a little tighter. It was just after winter break, the world was drizzly and cold, but no snow was in the forecast, which suited Zara just fine. She’d been sitting in the cafeteria downing coffee like a fiend, hoping to wake up before her class at eleven, unfortunately nothing seemed to be helping.
“Don’t what?” Nixon made a face as he sat down next to her.
“I slept horribly last night.” The last several actually, but last night especially. “I’m not in the mood for you.”
“Well for your information I slept like shit, too. So join the club or something.” Nixon’s voice was a low rumble from lack of sleep, and his eyes were puffy. “So what the fuck kept you up?”
“Just… couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled and took a sip of her coffee. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class now?”
“Skipped.”
Zara frowned. “Smart, now you’ll get in trouble.”
“No I won’t.”
“You can’t just go around skipping all your classes!”
“I’m not! It’s just one; don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.” Nixon crossed his arms, irritated.
“Whatever,” Zara huffed.
“Whatever yourself.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
“You don’t make sense.”
“Yeah well, your mom.”
“Your face.”
By the end both of them were snickering at each other, the foul mood dissipating.
“Sorry I was pissy,” Zara mumbled.
“Same.”
“I just… I’ve been dreaming a lot lately and it’s weird and I‘m tired.”
“Oh?” Nixon lifted an eyebrow, trying for casual but Zara could tell his interest had been peeked for some reason or another. “What about?”
Fire, death, destruction. All the fun things, she thought bitterly. Well, that had been last night, the previous dreams hadn’t been so bad. Actually some had been rather pleasant, if not utterly bizarre.
“I just--uh--different things. I had one dream with you in it.” Here Nixon sat up a little straighter, to anyone who didn’t know him they might’ve thought it was just a case of arrogance at being dreamt of, thought of. But Zara knew him better than that. He was on edge, apprehensive, trying to mask it.
“Really?” he muttered.
“Yeah, it was like ye olden times and shit. There was a castle…..”
“A golden one? With a giant practice area type thing -- do they have an actual name in castles? -- where we would hammer at each other with swords, and this really giant dude would yell orders at us?”
“The fuck?” Zara turned in her seat to face Nixon, wide eyed.
“Uh…. was that not what you dreamt? I was just teasing you and uh….” he trailed off, laughing nervously.
“No, no. That’s exactly what I dreamt, how in the hell did you know?”
“Because I’ve been having the same dreams. Only, they don’t seem like dreams. More like….” he stopped and looked around before leaning in closer to Zara, voice low. “Like memories.”
“This is weird.”
“Extremely.”
“What do you think it means?”
“We were both slipped acid at a party and we’re tripping balls right now?”
“Ha ha. How long have you been having them?”
“Since right before break started, you?”
“About the same.” Zara sighed and focused on her coffee, swirling the contents and trying to figure it all out.
“Semi-cognizant remembrance of joint past lives.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have no idea, but sounds good, right?” Nixon grinned and leaned his head on Zara’s shoulder. “Maybe it just means we’re destined for each other. You sure about the whole lesbian thing?”
“Good god,” Zara sighed and rolled her shoulder.
“Though, I don’t know, I mean the entire thing is obviously insane, maybe we can do some researching about the castle or something?”
“Not a bad idea, we’ll get it figured out. Hopefully.” Zara drained her coffee and slowly stood. “Well, it’s about time for my class, and I, unlike others refuse to skip.”
***
As spring slowly crept up on Seattle, Zara and Nixon were no closer to figuring anything out about their dreams. They researched in their spare time, Nixon more than Zara as she had taken on another part-time job-- her grandparents’ trust fund would cover all of her tuition, but she still needed money to cover basic costs.
Though it seemed nothing they found matched their dreams.
As the months passed things grew more vivid for them, and it was at times like remembering things they’ve might done together as children. Zara told Nixon about sneaking with him to pilfer cakes from the kitchens.
Nixon reminded her of a time they rode horses to the mountains and gorged on berries. Though neither of them could recall what kind they had been.
Everything was so real, so vivid in so many ways.
There were other things, things that were not so vivid. Distant voices, barked orders, name calling, and laughter. There were others, they both thought, but they couldn’t place faces or names or anything other than a phantom spirit.
They spent summer vacation in much the same way, Nixon spent time with his family and researched as much as he could through old histories while Zara worked. Summer bled into fall and they returned to school.
Life for Zara was interesting. She was almost thankful for the dreams, it was a distraction. She didn’t have to deal with thoughts of her family; just work, school, and this unknown thing.
She received a couple brief phone calls from her mother at holidays and her birthday, but no word from her father. She emailed regularly with Adam, and he kept her up to date with most everything, in his brutally honest way.
Her friendship with Nixon kept her sane, and school kept her grounded. During winter break of her Sophomore year, almost a year to the day since she first started having the strange dreams, she had a particularly vivid one.
This dream included the faces of the others. There was a laughing blond with bright blue eyes and what she knew to be a sharp tongue, and her first instinct was to tease him as she might Nixon.
Then there was a giant of a man, broad shoulders and cool eyes. He held himself like a general, and one could tell he was not a man to be trifled with. However there was a slight quirk of his lips, a flash in his eyes: amusement. It was subtle, but it was still there, and somehow Zara knew while it wasn’t an everyday occurrence, it wasn’t nearly as rare as generally people thought.
The third man seemed young, his jet black hair falling into navy blue eyes as he gripped his sides in mirth. Something about this young man called to her, tugged at her heart in a way she couldn’t begin to explain. She watched them like outsider, a spectator, and then she was in the middle of the fray, laughing along with them.
“Next time I’ll make him run doubles like that.” The giant said, his voice low as he tried to hide a chuckle.
“Least he deserves.” The dark haired man gasped out.
“Better him than me!” The blond cried, leaning against the giant. Zara felt her sides splitting as she gasp for air, though she had no idea what was so funny. Her clothes were different, a uniform in a cut she had never seen before.
She gazed down at a large practice area, ringed by a worn dirt path obviously used like a track. It was on that track she found Nixon, but not the Nixon she knew, he was different somehow. He seemed older, his hair longer and shaggy, falling in auburn waves around his broad shoulders.
Everything about him spoke of power, the Nixon she knew was strong, but this Nixon was a behemoth, his arms thick like trunks. This Nixon was running the home stretch on the track wearing a frilly pink ball gown.
“Have you learned your lesson yet!?” The giant bellowed at Nixon.
“Is there any answer I can give that won’t result in more laps!?”
“NO!” The giant tilted back his head then and laughed, a real laugh.
“At least someone’s having fun, damned rutting boar-pig!”
“You make a fine example of the Shitennou, Nephrite. Perhaps Kunzite should step down, you’re much more commanding and winning. And pink is definitely your color!”
“By the gods, Jadeite, don’t give the fool ideas.” The giant -- Kunzite? -- groaned.
“As if he ever listens to a word I say? Besides,” the blond shrugged, “I really do think pink is a lovely color for him.”
“At this moment you all make very fine Shitennou, I’m quite proud!”
“Why thank you, your highness!” The blond gave a deep bow to the dark haired man, and in that moment Zara knew his name. Endymion.
Something about it struck a chord, something about this entire affair did. This was normal for them, this was something they did often together. Laughing and teasing. These men were not strangers…. they were her brothers, and she their sister. Bonded deeper than even blood, they were comrades, they were friends, they were Shitennou.
Zara jolted awake, uneasy and out of sorts. She picked up her cell phone from her nightstand and snuck out of her dorm room, careful not to wake her roommate. She crept down the hall toward the stairs and scrolled through her contacts. Finding the name she wanted, she hit the call button.
The phone barely rang once before Nixon’s voice answered on the other end, “We need to find them.”
“I know.”
***
When Nixon graduated he was immediately offered a job at Boeing, with a good word from his father. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid well enough and it offered him a few freedoms.
He got his own apartment and Zara moved in, it gave them time to research and a central hub of operation. They didn’t really know what they were looking for. Dark haired young men with blue eyes? Large stoic generals? Laughing jokesters with the ideology of Pan?
“I think I give up,” Nixon moaned one particularly gray Sunday afternoon. “We don’t where they would be. I mean Nephrite ruled what we call the Americas, great, fine, I was born here. But then why are you here? You should be in Europe or some shit.”
“I don’t know, but we can’t give up. There’s got be something that will help!”
“Look, I was supposed to be the mystic right? That’s what it was like back then, yeah? Well I got nothing!” He threw his arms up. “And the words are on the screen are blurring together, it might as well be Japanese! Why is your face white?”
Nixon shoved his laptop aside and moved toward Zara, who was staring blankly at her screen.
“Because I think I found him,” she mumbled. Shaking herself slightly she managed to speak again more clearly. “I was stumbling through some college directories, just clicking one thing and then another. Then I found this article from Harvard about a student named ‘Mamoru Chiba.’ Just look.”
She swiveled the screen around for Nixon to see, watching as his eyes went wide when he focused on the picture. Zara didn’t need to see the picture again, it was already burned into her mind. Unruly jet black hair falling into navy blue eyes, and a quirked smile that looked so forced it broke her heart.
He was supposed to smile for real.
“Holy shit,” Nixon breathed. “That’s really him, isn’t it?”
“I think so.”
Nixon shook his head and lifted his eyes to meet hers. “So you’re saying we have to head to Boston? It’s Harvard, right?”
“Nope, he’s back in Japan now.”
“Great, we’ve got to learn Japanese now?”
“Hai.”
***
Slowly the ball was set in motion for their journey abroad. They took the time they had to learn the language as well as they could, and their apartment became a Japanese only place. Nixon worked hard while trying to either get a job in Japan or a transfer with Boeing, while Zara finished out her Senior year at college.
It was the day after her graduation they were at Sea-Tac waiting for their flight to Narita International Airport. Their bags had been checked and they were waiting for the boarding to start. Zara was fidgeting in her seat, wondering how she was going to make it through the ten hour flight.
“Do you think we’ll find him?” Nixon asked, voice quiet.
Other than the article about the scholarship and a note about graduation, they hadn’t been able to locate any further information about Mamoru Chiba. Something that bothered them for more reasons than they wanted to ponder.
Despite the lack of information something told them that the greater Tokyo area was their best bet, and it had worked well for a big move and Nixon’s transfer.
“I don’t know, Nix. I hope so.”
The flight might’ve lasted for three days for all Zara knew, every minute onboard seemed to stretch on into infinity. They both attempted to sleep, but it was not forthcoming, and neither of them really wanted it anyway.
Lately Nixon had dreams of war, murder and blood; while Zara’s were not as traumatic, they were just as haunting.
Sad blue eyes, timid smiles, pale skin and warm lips. All of it was maddening and frustrating, all the more because Zara couldn’t ever see the woman’s entire face, just glimpses. Though she knew one day she would get the whole picture, like she had with her prince and fellow Shitennou.
She just wasn’t sure if she wanted that or not. There was such an overwhelming sense of guilt and disappointment that accompanied these particular dreams.
Zara glanced out the window as they started to descend, looking at the sprawling metropolis that was going to be her new home.
It seemed to take forever for the plane to unload, but at least she was able to stand as they shuffled forward out the door. The airport was a whirling mass of people, rushing around to make connections or meet their families. After a few mistakes and wrong turns, they were finally able to make it through customs and get their luggage.
They were both exhausted and hungry and sniping at each other while they tried to navigate through the throngs of people exiting the airport, looking for cars and taxis and buses.
Zara stopped dead in her tracks as something caught her eye. She reached out and grabbed the back of Nixon’s shirt, yanking him back toward her.
“What?” He growled, shaking off her hand. Zara only pointed to where she was staring.
Standing there like Goliath among a sea of Davids, was a man with short cropped hair so pale blond as to appear white. His stance was rigid, speaking of discomfort and slight confusion.
Though only a person who knew him would be able to tell. Anyone else casting him a glance--and there were many doing just that--would only see how strong he looked, how intimidating his steely eyes were.
“I’ll be fucking damned.” Nixon gave a low whistle.
“Well come on!” Zara grabbed his wrist and started dragging him through the crowd. They stopped at the man’s side just as he turned, his gaze sweeping the area. Though he stopped suddenly when his eyes locked onto them.
One eyebrow quirked slightly as he surveyed them.
“Hello,” Zara said, feeling oddly nervous but excited. Almost like when she was a child and got to meet Santa Claus at the mall.
“Hello.” His voice was deep, a low rumble, and tinged with an accent she couldn’t place yet.
“I’m Zara Logan, and this is Nixon Barrowman.” She almost felt like she should salute, but instead she settled for standing a little straighter, shoulders back.
“Pleasure, Kadin Bashir.” He held out his hand, it was large and seemed to swallow hers, however she was able to place his accent as British.
“What brings you here…. from the United States, correct?” Kadin reached out to shake Nixon’s hand, Nixon shook it slowly but rolled his eyes.
“Cut the damned pleasantries, you know very well why we’re here…. O Fearless Leader.”
“Good to see you still have no decorum.” Kadin pinched the bridge of nose, letting out a deep sigh.
“All right boys, let's go find somewhere to talk. I think we have a lot of catching up to do.”
Title: College Daze
Who: Zoisite, Nephrite.
Rating: R?
Verse: Drabblender/Merry May.. THIS NEEDS A REAL NAME!
A/N: The prompt I started with was Zara and Nixon college bromance..... then it turned into this. I don't even know? I think I stole bits of Sandy's life (and shamelessly a bit of mine -- you'll see!)? So I'll just apologize for everything. :P
Walking across the Quad of the University of Washington for the first--or second--time was quite an impressive sight. The brick walkways crisscrossed the plush, vibrant green grass and the cherry blossom trees were no longer the pale pink of spring but a riot of red, gold, orange and bronze. The day was crisp and cold, but no rain--though the sky looked as if it threatened a drizzle at any moment. The air was fresh and clean and stung your lungs just a bit when you took a deep breath.
Zara Logan found the entire place utterly charming, and she couldn’t be happier to be starting her first semester. The long drive from Spokane, all the way across the state, to Seattle had been grueling, made all the more painful by the presence of her parents, but now she thought it well worth it.
She could still see her mother’s tearful goodbye after they’d settled her into her dorm room, and her father’s indignant sighs as he looked around the campus.
“I never thought I would live to see the day when a Logan became a Husky; your grandfather must be turning over in his grave,” he’d scoffed, shaking his head.
“Gabe! Who cares which team she supports? What about the fact she’s going to school nearly three hundred miles away! We’ll only see her at Christmas.” Her mother had sniffed loudly.
“Nonsense, Tracy, she’ll be back for all the holidays, won’t you, Kiddo?” Gabe turned toward his daughter, smiling.
“It’s a six hour drive, Dad. I’ll make it back home when I can. Besides I was thinking I should probably get a job, just to cover random expenses.”
“Like parties?” Gabe narrowed his eyes. “You’re here to study.”
“No,” Zara sighed. “I just might want some extra money for clothes, or going around town. And I might have my food card, but coffee is expensive, Daddy.” She smiled sweetly.
“I suppose,” he hummed. “I guess I shouldn’t be too upset if you’re taking initiative.” He returned her smile and leaned in to hug her.
“Take care! I want a call every weekend, all right?” Her mother said, hugging her tight.
Zara had watched them leave, waving shyly, hoping none of her fellow students would notice the embarrassing red and white WSU cougar in the back window of her dad’s Ford F-450. Letting out a relieved breath once they out of sight, Zara had turned back toward her dorm, ready to start her new life in Seattle.
Her first day of classes had been interesting, but tiring, and now she was heading toward the cafeteria for lunch before her afternoon classes. As Zara walked along, she let herself enjoy the day; she closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, listening to the sounds around her.
Zara could hear people laughing and talking, some shouts and curses from the group of guys playing ultimate Frisbee. In fact the shouts were getting louder, Zara blinked open her eyes a moment before a flying disk could make contact with her face, leaning to the side slightly, she reached out and plucked the object from the air.
A young man came jogging up to her then; tall, muscular with oodles of wavy brown hair and a smile she was sure some her friends back home would call “panty melting.” He fixed the smile on her now as he stopped by her side.
“Sorry about that, my friend was a little overzealous with his last throw. But that was an amazing catch!”
“No, problem. I wasn’t exactly paying attention like I should.” Zara shrugged and handed over the Frisbee. She turned away from the young man and started on her way again. “Have a good game!” she called over her shoulder.
“Hey! If you ever want to play, we’re here every Monday!” He called after her, his voice booming across the quad.
***
Zara did notice the same group of guys in the Quad the following Monday on her way to the cafeteria. She didn’t stop to play, but the same auburn haired man caught sight of her and waved hello. She returned the favor and carried on as usual. She only ever saw him in the Quad, none of her req. classes and figured he must be an upperclassman.
The third Monday, though, was drizzling and the group had the good sense not to play in the rain. When Zara entered the dining hall she saw the rowdy group taking up a large table by the windows. They were engaging in some activity that involved building a pyramid out of French fries… the structure was quite impressive, she had to admit.
“BACK UP!” One of them yelled, and Zara recognized him as the one who waved at her. At his barked order his friends retreated a good distance from the table, all smiling and snickering. “All right men, THERE SHE BLOWS!” he bellowed and pushed down on something at the end of the table. He had barely gotten the last word out when the French fry pyramid erupted like a volcano, spewing ketchup all over the table.
This seemed to have been the desired outcome as they all exploded with laughter, cheering and congratulating one another. Though their celebrations were short lived as a few of the cafeteria attendants came over, stern and annoyed.
“We’ll clean it up! We always do!” The auburn haired one was saying, looking completely unabashed. This barely appeased the workers, but finally they nodded and headed back to work.
“Well, boys, another grand success!” The man smiled widely, grabbed a ketchup drenched fry from the table and popped it in his mouth. Zara shook her head, vaguely disgusted, and started moving toward the lunch line when a large shadow fell over her. Looking up she met light brown eyes, dancing in amusement.
“Hey,” he said.
“Uh… hi.” Zara bobbed her head awkwardly. “Bye,” she mumbled and started for the food again. The shadow followed her.
“You know, you really do have some skills. You should play with us.” He spoke casually, hands in the pockets of his faded jeans, broad shoulders slightly hunched forward.
“Right… look, I’m not sure if this thing normally works for you.“ Zara circled her hand in front of his chest and frowned. “But it isn’t working now.”
“Huh?” Thick brows knitted together, lips puckering slightly in confusion. “Oh! No, no. I’m not coming onto you. Really. I just want a new team member.” He smiled at her, wide and friendly. “Besides, you’re not my type. I like brunettes.”
“Uh huh, so you like yourself?” Zara crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.
“Pretty much!” He grinned wider still and rocked on the balls of his feet. “I’m Nixon, by the way. Most people call me Nix, though.” He shrugged a shoulder and stuck out his hand.
“I’m Zara,” she said and took his hand, shaking it slowly. Something about him put her at ease, though she couldn’t really explain what it was or why.
“Great to meet you!”
Despite herself, Zara found herself actually liking Nixon… idiotic behavior aside.
***
“Does it ever stop raining?”
“Do you ever stop whining?”
“Shut up, Nixon! That was a serious question, it’s been drizzling for the past three days. Does it ever stop?”
“No, welcome to fall in Western Washington. You can always head back east over the pass to your precious ‘seasons’, pfft! Who needs seasons? We have rainy, possible snow that sends the masses into a panic, and every once and awhile some sun! What more do you need?”
“You’re a freak, Nix. Possibly part amphibian, let’s see those toes… are they webbed?”
“Whatever, Cougar. Go home.”
“I’m not a Cougar! I’m attending the U-Dub for chrissake! That makes me a Husky, if you don’t believe me just ask my dad. He bleeds crimson and gray, and would happily tell you all about how his daughter defected.”
“I don’t think it’s healthy for blood to be gray, Zara. You should have him get that checked out.”
Zara stared at Nixon for a moment then threw herself backwards on her bed and pulled a pillow over her face, screaming. She had become fast friends with Nixon in the few months that she had known him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t annoy her half the time.
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon in mid-November, her dormmate was gone visiting her boyfriend, and Nixon had stopped by with coffee and donuts; of course that gesture only brought so much goodwill, and at the moment it was tapped out.
“Okay, fine. I’ll play nice, but you’ll always be a Cougar to me.” Nixon laughed and flopped down on the end of her bed, jostling her. She was sure he did it on purpose.
“I’ll be a ‘Cougar’ only when dating someone younger than me doesn’t mean dating jailbait.” Zara stuck her tongue at her friend.
“Good policy, that.” Nixon propped one arm behind his head, the other resting across his stomach. He looked totally relaxed, which meant he wouldn’t be leaving for a good long while. “Seriously, though, we do need to get you a date.”
“Why the sudden interest?”
“It’s not a sudden interest, I’ve been worrying over this for weeks now.”
“What in the hell, man?” Zara sat up and tried to grab her pillow, intending to whack Nixon across the face with it, but he continued talking as if she hadn’t just screamed.
“I know this great chick, Sandy, she works in Fremont. I think you would like her,” he said. Zara stopped as the words left his mouth. She stopped mid-swing, the pillow held above her head. Stopped thinking, stopped breathing. Just stopped.
“I.. huh? Wait, what?” she stuttered, finally lowering the pillow and cradling it against her chest. “Why would I want to go on a date with a girl?”
Slowly, deliberately, Nixon rolled onto his side and gave Zara a long look, eyes blinking owlishly. “Really?” He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s how you want to play it? You stare at Shawna Johnston’s ass more than I do when she‘s doing yoga in the Quad.”
“Only because you’re staring at her tits!”
“You make a valid point there, but you can’t say you don’t stare at her ass. AND,” he continued loudly when Zara opened her mouth to protest. “You flirt with Suzie at the café and she totally hooks you up with free scones. Do not deny.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Zara pouted and sank into herself slightly, using the pillow as a shield. “Is it obvious?” she whispered.
“What? That you like girls?” Nixon looked up at her for a moment, his normally sanguine features serious. “You haven’t come out?”
“No. I mean… I do. I am. I know I am, but back home. It just--” Zara stopped and heaved a shuddering sigh. “It’s just not something you talk about… it’s not an option,” she mumbled.
“Like at all?”
“No,” she shook her head quickly, like a bobblehead doll. “My parents are really religious, and like, Spokane is a big city and there’s a community there, I‘m sure…. but it wasn’t where I was. And if my dad was horrible about me coming here for school, I can’t even imagine what he would say if I told him I was a…. if I liked girls.”
“You can say it, you know?” Nixon sat up and patted her knee gently. “It’s not a bad thing or a bad word, and I certainly won’t judge you.” His eyes were so big and so encouraging, Zara took a deep breath and said the word she hadn’t ever thought about saying out loud.
“I’m a lesbian.”
“There you go, now want to get something to eat? I’m hungry!” Nixon smiled brightly at her and started scooting off the bed, before he moved too far away Zara stopped Nixon with a hand on his arm.
“Thanks,” she smiled and leaned forward, hugging him quickly. Nixon patted her back in return.
“Just make sure you don’t mack on any chicks I like, and we’re cool.” He laughed when she pulled back.
“Pig.”
“Whatever! Come on, let’s get food. You won’t melt in the rain.”
***
“You don’t have to do this, you know?”
“Hey, nice of you to give me the option after we’ve already driven across the Pass. Awesome!” Nixon gave Zara a double thumbs up and giant grin.
“Watch the road!” She squealed, hitting his arm until he put his hands back on the wheel.
“Wuss.”
“Yes, how dare I make you follow basic road rules. Such as watching the road with both hands on the wheel.” Zara frowned and slunk down in her seat, arms crossed.
“Oh, shit, calm down. It’s going to be okay.” He glanced at her, eyebrows knitted together.
“How you could possibly think any of this will, at any time, be ‘okay’?”
“Dude, this was your idea.”
“I was joking!”
“Too late now, babe,” he said condescendingly and reached over to pat her leg. Zara rolled her eyes, but she supposed he was doing her the biggest favor anyone could. She had honestly meant it as a joke when she’d suggested he play her boyfriend for her family. He’d agreed.
It had been her own fault, she knew. In roughly the year and half that she’d known him, Nixon had--for better or worse--become her best friend in the world. She was comfortable with him, maybe it was because he knew she was a lesbian or maybe it was just the strange, inexplicable feeling that she’d known him forever, but either way she knew she could be herself around him.
Of course with this wonderful friendship came her slip ups and loose tongue when talking to her family…. and of course they’d gotten the wrong idea.
During Christmas break she had been tired and on edge around her family, so when one cousin or another asked about her ’boyfriend’, she had replied, unthinking. Her father hadn’t been exactly pleased with the idea of her having a boyfriend he hadn’t met, so it had been agreed upon -- meaning she had been all but ordered -- that she and Nixon would head east of the mountains during summer break.
When she’d told Nixon all of this, he hadn’t really batted an eye. She would’ve lied and said they’d broken up, after all it was college and things didn’t necessarily last. Nixon had vetoed the idea, claiming this would be easier until she was ready to come out.
“Thank you,” she said as they turned down the side street that would lead to her parents’ house.
“What are friends for?” He shrugged carelessly. “Besides, I’d like to think if things were reversed you’d the same for me.”
“Absolutely.” She nodded resolutely. Nixon smiled, just a little half smile, but it lit up his features nonetheless.
“It will all be fine,” he said as he read the house numbers before the finding the correct one, and pulling into the driveway.
“Just remember, don’t smack me if I feel you up.” He laughed as he put the car into park and started to open the door.
“Just remember my dad will beat you if you try to feel me up.”
“Good point,” he laughed as he stepped out. Zara followed suit, opening her door to the arid Spokane air. Just as she kicking the door shut on Nixon’s green Subaru Forester, her family was already pouring out the front door.
Her mom and dad came first, happy their daughter was home. Next was her younger brother, Adam. He’d outgrown Zara at the age of fourteen and now, at sixteen, he was almost as tall as Nixon. He looked quite happy to see Zara, and that had her smiling. Her baby brother was definitely her favorite.
Then came Jacob, his normally dark blond hair bleached platinum from the hot summer days. He looked reserved and guarded, as he usually did, and was already casting skeptical looks toward Nixon‘s “UW“ t-shirt--this would be so much fun.
Lastly was her sister, Miriam. With darker hair like their father, her brows were thick, giving her a perpetually surly look. Though her frown didn’t do much to help matters, Zara thought. She walked slightly behind Jacob, her arms wrapped around her stomach, and barely spared Zara a glance. Since her relationship had ended a few a months ago, Zara was sure Miriam was seething with jealousy that her younger sister was bringing home a boy.
Zara stepped around the front of the car to greet her parents, giving them each a quick hug before slugging Adam in the arm and reaching up to ruffle his sunny blond hair.
“I’m so happy you made it here safely!” Her mother cried. “And you made great time! Must’ve gotten an early start, hm?” Zara nodded, deciding it best not to let Nixon’s speeding habit be known.
“And this is him, right? Of course it is! Who else would it be?” Tracy smiled widely and leaned close to whisper in Zara’s ear, “He’s really cute!”
“Yeah, Mom? Dad? This is Nixon my…. my, uh, boyfriend.” Zara held out her hand in a Vanna White pose, not really sure what else to say. She cast a fleeting look toward Nixon and felt a little ill when she saw him grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“Hello, I’m Nixon Barrowman. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Logan, Mrs. Logan.” He shook her father’s hand, met his firm gaze with a smile, then focused all his charm on her mother, while slipping a supportive arm around Zara’s waist.
“He doesn’t seem your type.” Zara turned toward Miriam, slipping away from Nixon and her parents, and tried to work her face into something she hoped was quizzical rather than worried.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s cute. Seems athletic,” Miriam said quietly, eyes focused on Nixon’s broad shoulders. “Very outgoing. I always pictured you with the little dweeby newspaper boys or the angry goth ones.”
“Nixon and I started out as friends.” Not a lie, Zara told herself. “We’ve gotten very close.”
“Well, good for you.” Miriam cast her one glance before stepping forward to introduce herself to Nixon.
“God this is going to be a long visit,” Zara mumbled under her breath while pinching the bridge of her nose, hoping to stem off a headache.
***
The morning after Zara and Nixon arrived at her parents house was rather nice, surprisingly. The breakfast table was full of Zara’s favorite things--warm Belgium waffles with fresh whipped cream, peaches picked from the tree in the backyard, and strawberries from a stand up the road.
Nixon had effectively charmed her mother and younger brother, and managed to put her father at ease -- the fact Nixon was so dedicated to his studies, and was planning on working at Boeing with his father was a major plus in Gabe’s mind. However it seemed her older siblings were not quite as sold on Nixon as the other Logans.
Zara had no idea what to make of Miriam -- though she never really did. Part of Miriam seemed intrigued by Nixon, because he was a handsome man--even Zara could admit that, despite the fact he wasn’t her type in anyway, shape, or form.
Jacob for his part seemed to look at Nixon as competition, but then again everything was a competition to Jacob.
“Oh, I’ve always played sports.” Zara glanced up at Nixon, deep in discussion with her eldest sibling. “Got a bunch of friends I play Ultimate with, good times.”
“Ultimate?” Jacob frowned, obviously doubting the legitimately of a sport he wasn’t familiar with. “I always preferred basketball, myself. I was varsity,” he said, obviously feeling pleased with himself. Zara held back a snort, when wasn’t he pleased with himself?
“Really?” Nixon peered at Jacob over the rim of his orange juice. “That’s awesome, man.”
“Do you play basketball, Nix?” Adam asked eagerly. He was obviously far more enamored with Nixon than Jacob, not that Zara faulted him for that.
“Oh, sure. I played in high school, was just the thing to do.” He shrugged and proceeded to down his glass in one, long gulp.
“Say,” Jacob started slowly. “Why not a friendly game? Nothing planned today, right?” He turned to Zara, practically willing her to follow along.
“Nope,” she said. She probably shouldn’t be encouraging things, but she knew no matter what she said now things had gone too far.
“Hey, can I play, too?” Adam looked like an overexcited puppy at the prospect. Zara had a sudden urge to reach out and pet his hair, but held back. Least he get mocked by Jacob.
“I suppose? Wait, I know. We can even things out. I’ll take Zara on my team, she’s fairly handy with a basketball, and you can play with Nixon? That seem fair?”
“Sure!”
Zara suppressed a sigh, and glanced toward Nixon. He was staring at an oblivious Jacob, eyes narrowed; quietly judging. He turned away as if he felt Zara looking at him, and smiled at her. It was far too bright and casual, and Zara knew that meant trouble. Of course it meant the trouble was directed at Jacob, and honestly, that was fine with her.
***
“Men.” Zara let out a puff of air before taking a sip from her water bottle. They’d been on the basketball court at the Y for lord knew how long, and she and Adam had long since been forgotten.
The game had started off simple enough, just a friendly game, until Jacob realized two things. First, how skilled Nixon was at the sport. Second, how competitive he was. Now the pair were playing a grueling one-on-one match full of trash talking and more testosterone than she could handle.
Adam seemed quite enthralled with the game as it was, and even Miriam--who had accompanied them for reasons Zara didn’t really want to ponder--seemed extremely interested. At least in Nixon’s performance.
Side eyeing her sister, Zara wrinkled her nose, then turned back just in time to watch Nixon feint to the right. Jacob fell for the move, Nixon whirled past and drove for the hoop with an easy layup. With that basket Nixon won the impromptu game, earning cheers from Adam and Miriam -- predictably.
Jacob was clearly displeased with the fact he lost, and Zara kept her eyes on him while he composed his face into something more friendly, though she could still see the strain around his eyes.
“Nice game.” He held out his hand which Nixon took, shaking it firmly. “You had to have been on a team in school.”
“Nah, man. Just lots of messing around with friends and playing NBA Jam on Xbox.” Nixon laughed, enjoying himself. Zara quietly wondered when the two would come to blows. It was only a matter of time….
“Well that was a great game!” Miriam chirped, rising from the benches lining one side of the court. She grabbed an extra bottle of water and a towel, handing both to Nixon with a wide grin.
Zara could barely keep from rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, great game,” Adam said, and Zara could tell he was disappointed to have missed out on the fun.
“Let’s do it again, yeah? We’re here for a while.” Nixon smiled at Adam, clapping him on the shoulder. Then he turned toward Zara and slung an arm around her shoulders.
“Ewww! You’re all sweaty.” She slapped him away.
“Come on, I’m sexy and you know it.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“You’re--” Zara started to say something horribly rude, as she usually did when he got cocky, but then she remembered they were ‘dating’ and stopped herself. “I like it better when you don’t smell like a dirty locker room.”
Nixon only grinned wider and kept his arm around her, sending her a saucy wink.
“Oh just kiss already,” Jacob mumbled.
“Awww!” Miriam cooed.
Nixon stopped for just a second, stopped moving and breathing. So did Zara. It was kind of inevitable, she supposed. But that really didn’t make it any easier. Turning toward her, his back to the others, Nixon smiled at her wanly. “Sorry,” he mumbled before tilting her backward and making a big show of the kiss.
However he kept his lips just the corner of her mouth, his actions covering it all. When he returned her to standing she felt a bit dazed, which she hoped lent a level of believably to it all. Though she was more dazed at how considerate her blockhead of a friend was.
Who knew?
***
The visit went quicker than Zara ever imagined it would, and it had been relatively okay. Nixon had toned things down so he and Jacob hadn’t gotten into a physical altercation of any kind. Though there was still time.
It was Saturday night and they were leaving Tuesday. Plenty of time, really.
That day was a huge Logan Family BBQ, including aunts and uncles and cousins. Zara was quite sure the party was a form of capital punishment, however Nixon seemed to having a fine time. Though he was always a social butterfly. Freak of nature.
Sipping her lemonade, Zara nearly jumped out of her skin with the backdoor banged open and Adam came marching out, a scowl darkening his face.
“Hey? What’s the matter?” she called before he got too far.
Adam whirled around, marched toward her, and plopped down heavily in the lawn chair that Nixon had long ago abandoned. “Dad is a fucking asshole!”
“Whoa, watch your mouth! What if mom heard?” Or their father for that matter.
“Well he is! I’m sixteen, I’m not a child, but he wants to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with. It’s bullshit.”
“What’s going on? And when did you get such a mouth?”
“I’m in high school?” He shrugged as if that explained it all. “I know this kid, Mike, dad doesn’t want me hang out with him anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s gay.”
“Are you shitting me?” Zara felt the blood drain from her face.
“Nope, and he was such a bastard about it, too. I don’t even think Mike IS gay, dad just thinks he is. Though I don’t even know what it matters--”
“It matters because it’s a sin, Adam! And I said this discussion was over.” Their father’s voice was low, obviously brooking no further argument.
“You can’t dictate who his friends are! He has to see them at school!”
“This doesn’t concern you, Zara. I will not have my boy hanging out some fa--”
“DAD! Don’t say that word.”
“This is my house and I will use whatever word I want for those gays.”
“Oh my God, Dad! You sound like you’re from a hundred years ago.” Zara didn’t realize she was standing, facing off against her father, until Nixon placed a hand on her shoulder.
“The bible states that it is a sin! There is no point discussing this! And it certainly doesn‘t concern you. I am the parent, Adam is my son.” Her father’s face was flushed, clearly still worked up from his argument with Adam. Zara felt heat rushing to her cheeks, anger boiling in her chest. She had disagreed with her father’s beliefs for a long time, but right now it felt like they were at the point of no return.
“It does concern me, Dad!” Zara closed her eyes as she yelled, fists clenched at her sides. “Because you are spouting off hate speech against people you don’t know! It concerns because I am one of those people!” She opened her eyes and met her father’s. “I’m a lesbian, Dad.”
By the time Zara finished speaking, most everyone gathered had grown quiet, several of them had gotten closer. Mainly her mother, and older siblings. Nixon remained steadfast at her said, his hand still on her shoulder.
“You’re a what?”
“I’m gay! Gay. Lesbian, lesbo, dyke. I like women more than men. Nixon is my friend, and he came here to lie for me, because I didn’t want to tell you. Because I couldn’t tell you! But I think I just realized I will never change your mind so you might as well know the truth. YOU RAISED A HOMO!” Zara was screaming at this point, but she didn’t care. Once the words left her mouth she couldn’t seem to stem them.
Her father appeared to be boiling, his face flushed and eyes narrowed. “I tried so hard to do right by you, by all of you! How could you just turn your back on your church and your family like that? Didn’t we teach you the right things? Didn’t we teach you not to do wrong?”
“I’m NOT DOING WRONG! I didn’t fucking choose this, this is who I am! If there’s a God, he’s the one who made me this way!” Zara was trembling now, her fury bubbling up until she could barely see straight. Though she was vaguely aware of her father’s hand being lifted, she closed her eyes, however the damning slap never came.
Opening her eyes again she found Nixon holding her father’s wrist, his knuckles white and shoulders tense.
“Let go of me, boy!”
“Sir, I am well aware this is your home and I am merely a guest, but I will not stand by and let you touch her. This is over. Give me five minutes to get our things and we’ll be gone.” Nixon’s eyes were hard, his voice low and full of authority. Zara had never seen him like that, never imagined he could be so commanding… almost like a general with his troops.
“Get the hell out of my house and never come back!” Her father spat, shaking off Nixon’s grip and turning toward the garage.
Zara wasn’t aware of anything, she felt numb now. She thought maybe Adam was hugging her, or it could’ve been her mother. She didn’t really know. She only came back to herself when she was in the car and it was already moving.
She turned toward Nixon, his face grim, lips a thin line, and opened her mouth to say thank you, but nothing came. He turned toward her, frowned a little deeper, and then flipped his signal, getting off the road.
Zara was shocked to realize how far from her parents house they were. Well into town and heading toward the highway. She blinked stupidly went Nixon threw the car into park and got out.
He moved around to the passenger side and opened her door. Zara didn’t know what to say or think, and could only make a strange squawk when he hauled her out of her seat. Nixon pulled her into a tight hug, his arms linking around her waist. Finally the realization of what had happened seemed to settle in, she linked her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder just as the tears started to come.
“Hey, it’ll be okay. I promise. It will be fine, you’ve got me. You’ll always have me.”
“Great, my dad hates me and I’m stuck with you forever.” Her voice was choked with tears and muffled against his shirt, but he laughed nonetheless.
“Nixon?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“ ‘Course, that’s what friends are for.”
***
“Mornin’”
“Don’t.” Zara let out a loud yawn, gripping her mug of coffee a little tighter. It was just after winter break, the world was drizzly and cold, but no snow was in the forecast, which suited Zara just fine. She’d been sitting in the cafeteria downing coffee like a fiend, hoping to wake up before her class at eleven, unfortunately nothing seemed to be helping.
“Don’t what?” Nixon made a face as he sat down next to her.
“I slept horribly last night.” The last several actually, but last night especially. “I’m not in the mood for you.”
“Well for your information I slept like shit, too. So join the club or something.” Nixon’s voice was a low rumble from lack of sleep, and his eyes were puffy. “So what the fuck kept you up?”
“Just… couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled and took a sip of her coffee. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class now?”
“Skipped.”
Zara frowned. “Smart, now you’ll get in trouble.”
“No I won’t.”
“You can’t just go around skipping all your classes!”
“I’m not! It’s just one; don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.” Nixon crossed his arms, irritated.
“Whatever,” Zara huffed.
“Whatever yourself.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!”
“You don’t make sense.”
“Yeah well, your mom.”
“Your face.”
By the end both of them were snickering at each other, the foul mood dissipating.
“Sorry I was pissy,” Zara mumbled.
“Same.”
“I just… I’ve been dreaming a lot lately and it’s weird and I‘m tired.”
“Oh?” Nixon lifted an eyebrow, trying for casual but Zara could tell his interest had been peeked for some reason or another. “What about?”
Fire, death, destruction. All the fun things, she thought bitterly. Well, that had been last night, the previous dreams hadn’t been so bad. Actually some had been rather pleasant, if not utterly bizarre.
“I just--uh--different things. I had one dream with you in it.” Here Nixon sat up a little straighter, to anyone who didn’t know him they might’ve thought it was just a case of arrogance at being dreamt of, thought of. But Zara knew him better than that. He was on edge, apprehensive, trying to mask it.
“Really?” he muttered.
“Yeah, it was like ye olden times and shit. There was a castle…..”
“A golden one? With a giant practice area type thing -- do they have an actual name in castles? -- where we would hammer at each other with swords, and this really giant dude would yell orders at us?”
“The fuck?” Zara turned in her seat to face Nixon, wide eyed.
“Uh…. was that not what you dreamt? I was just teasing you and uh….” he trailed off, laughing nervously.
“No, no. That’s exactly what I dreamt, how in the hell did you know?”
“Because I’ve been having the same dreams. Only, they don’t seem like dreams. More like….” he stopped and looked around before leaning in closer to Zara, voice low. “Like memories.”
“This is weird.”
“Extremely.”
“What do you think it means?”
“We were both slipped acid at a party and we’re tripping balls right now?”
“Ha ha. How long have you been having them?”
“Since right before break started, you?”
“About the same.” Zara sighed and focused on her coffee, swirling the contents and trying to figure it all out.
“Semi-cognizant remembrance of joint past lives.”
“What does that mean?”
“I have no idea, but sounds good, right?” Nixon grinned and leaned his head on Zara’s shoulder. “Maybe it just means we’re destined for each other. You sure about the whole lesbian thing?”
“Good god,” Zara sighed and rolled her shoulder.
“Though, I don’t know, I mean the entire thing is obviously insane, maybe we can do some researching about the castle or something?”
“Not a bad idea, we’ll get it figured out. Hopefully.” Zara drained her coffee and slowly stood. “Well, it’s about time for my class, and I, unlike others refuse to skip.”
***
As spring slowly crept up on Seattle, Zara and Nixon were no closer to figuring anything out about their dreams. They researched in their spare time, Nixon more than Zara as she had taken on another part-time job-- her grandparents’ trust fund would cover all of her tuition, but she still needed money to cover basic costs.
Though it seemed nothing they found matched their dreams.
As the months passed things grew more vivid for them, and it was at times like remembering things they’ve might done together as children. Zara told Nixon about sneaking with him to pilfer cakes from the kitchens.
Nixon reminded her of a time they rode horses to the mountains and gorged on berries. Though neither of them could recall what kind they had been.
Everything was so real, so vivid in so many ways.
There were other things, things that were not so vivid. Distant voices, barked orders, name calling, and laughter. There were others, they both thought, but they couldn’t place faces or names or anything other than a phantom spirit.
They spent summer vacation in much the same way, Nixon spent time with his family and researched as much as he could through old histories while Zara worked. Summer bled into fall and they returned to school.
Life for Zara was interesting. She was almost thankful for the dreams, it was a distraction. She didn’t have to deal with thoughts of her family; just work, school, and this unknown thing.
She received a couple brief phone calls from her mother at holidays and her birthday, but no word from her father. She emailed regularly with Adam, and he kept her up to date with most everything, in his brutally honest way.
Her friendship with Nixon kept her sane, and school kept her grounded. During winter break of her Sophomore year, almost a year to the day since she first started having the strange dreams, she had a particularly vivid one.
This dream included the faces of the others. There was a laughing blond with bright blue eyes and what she knew to be a sharp tongue, and her first instinct was to tease him as she might Nixon.
Then there was a giant of a man, broad shoulders and cool eyes. He held himself like a general, and one could tell he was not a man to be trifled with. However there was a slight quirk of his lips, a flash in his eyes: amusement. It was subtle, but it was still there, and somehow Zara knew while it wasn’t an everyday occurrence, it wasn’t nearly as rare as generally people thought.
The third man seemed young, his jet black hair falling into navy blue eyes as he gripped his sides in mirth. Something about this young man called to her, tugged at her heart in a way she couldn’t begin to explain. She watched them like outsider, a spectator, and then she was in the middle of the fray, laughing along with them.
“Next time I’ll make him run doubles like that.” The giant said, his voice low as he tried to hide a chuckle.
“Least he deserves.” The dark haired man gasped out.
“Better him than me!” The blond cried, leaning against the giant. Zara felt her sides splitting as she gasp for air, though she had no idea what was so funny. Her clothes were different, a uniform in a cut she had never seen before.
She gazed down at a large practice area, ringed by a worn dirt path obviously used like a track. It was on that track she found Nixon, but not the Nixon she knew, he was different somehow. He seemed older, his hair longer and shaggy, falling in auburn waves around his broad shoulders.
Everything about him spoke of power, the Nixon she knew was strong, but this Nixon was a behemoth, his arms thick like trunks. This Nixon was running the home stretch on the track wearing a frilly pink ball gown.
“Have you learned your lesson yet!?” The giant bellowed at Nixon.
“Is there any answer I can give that won’t result in more laps!?”
“NO!” The giant tilted back his head then and laughed, a real laugh.
“At least someone’s having fun, damned rutting boar-pig!”
“You make a fine example of the Shitennou, Nephrite. Perhaps Kunzite should step down, you’re much more commanding and winning. And pink is definitely your color!”
“By the gods, Jadeite, don’t give the fool ideas.” The giant -- Kunzite? -- groaned.
“As if he ever listens to a word I say? Besides,” the blond shrugged, “I really do think pink is a lovely color for him.”
“At this moment you all make very fine Shitennou, I’m quite proud!”
“Why thank you, your highness!” The blond gave a deep bow to the dark haired man, and in that moment Zara knew his name. Endymion.
Something about it struck a chord, something about this entire affair did. This was normal for them, this was something they did often together. Laughing and teasing. These men were not strangers…. they were her brothers, and she their sister. Bonded deeper than even blood, they were comrades, they were friends, they were Shitennou.
Zara jolted awake, uneasy and out of sorts. She picked up her cell phone from her nightstand and snuck out of her dorm room, careful not to wake her roommate. She crept down the hall toward the stairs and scrolled through her contacts. Finding the name she wanted, she hit the call button.
The phone barely rang once before Nixon’s voice answered on the other end, “We need to find them.”
“I know.”
***
When Nixon graduated he was immediately offered a job at Boeing, with a good word from his father. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid well enough and it offered him a few freedoms.
He got his own apartment and Zara moved in, it gave them time to research and a central hub of operation. They didn’t really know what they were looking for. Dark haired young men with blue eyes? Large stoic generals? Laughing jokesters with the ideology of Pan?
“I think I give up,” Nixon moaned one particularly gray Sunday afternoon. “We don’t where they would be. I mean Nephrite ruled what we call the Americas, great, fine, I was born here. But then why are you here? You should be in Europe or some shit.”
“I don’t know, but we can’t give up. There’s got be something that will help!”
“Look, I was supposed to be the mystic right? That’s what it was like back then, yeah? Well I got nothing!” He threw his arms up. “And the words are on the screen are blurring together, it might as well be Japanese! Why is your face white?”
Nixon shoved his laptop aside and moved toward Zara, who was staring blankly at her screen.
“Because I think I found him,” she mumbled. Shaking herself slightly she managed to speak again more clearly. “I was stumbling through some college directories, just clicking one thing and then another. Then I found this article from Harvard about a student named ‘Mamoru Chiba.’ Just look.”
She swiveled the screen around for Nixon to see, watching as his eyes went wide when he focused on the picture. Zara didn’t need to see the picture again, it was already burned into her mind. Unruly jet black hair falling into navy blue eyes, and a quirked smile that looked so forced it broke her heart.
He was supposed to smile for real.
“Holy shit,” Nixon breathed. “That’s really him, isn’t it?”
“I think so.”
Nixon shook his head and lifted his eyes to meet hers. “So you’re saying we have to head to Boston? It’s Harvard, right?”
“Nope, he’s back in Japan now.”
“Great, we’ve got to learn Japanese now?”
“Hai.”
***
Slowly the ball was set in motion for their journey abroad. They took the time they had to learn the language as well as they could, and their apartment became a Japanese only place. Nixon worked hard while trying to either get a job in Japan or a transfer with Boeing, while Zara finished out her Senior year at college.
It was the day after her graduation they were at Sea-Tac waiting for their flight to Narita International Airport. Their bags had been checked and they were waiting for the boarding to start. Zara was fidgeting in her seat, wondering how she was going to make it through the ten hour flight.
“Do you think we’ll find him?” Nixon asked, voice quiet.
Other than the article about the scholarship and a note about graduation, they hadn’t been able to locate any further information about Mamoru Chiba. Something that bothered them for more reasons than they wanted to ponder.
Despite the lack of information something told them that the greater Tokyo area was their best bet, and it had worked well for a big move and Nixon’s transfer.
“I don’t know, Nix. I hope so.”
The flight might’ve lasted for three days for all Zara knew, every minute onboard seemed to stretch on into infinity. They both attempted to sleep, but it was not forthcoming, and neither of them really wanted it anyway.
Lately Nixon had dreams of war, murder and blood; while Zara’s were not as traumatic, they were just as haunting.
Sad blue eyes, timid smiles, pale skin and warm lips. All of it was maddening and frustrating, all the more because Zara couldn’t ever see the woman’s entire face, just glimpses. Though she knew one day she would get the whole picture, like she had with her prince and fellow Shitennou.
She just wasn’t sure if she wanted that or not. There was such an overwhelming sense of guilt and disappointment that accompanied these particular dreams.
Zara glanced out the window as they started to descend, looking at the sprawling metropolis that was going to be her new home.
It seemed to take forever for the plane to unload, but at least she was able to stand as they shuffled forward out the door. The airport was a whirling mass of people, rushing around to make connections or meet their families. After a few mistakes and wrong turns, they were finally able to make it through customs and get their luggage.
They were both exhausted and hungry and sniping at each other while they tried to navigate through the throngs of people exiting the airport, looking for cars and taxis and buses.
Zara stopped dead in her tracks as something caught her eye. She reached out and grabbed the back of Nixon’s shirt, yanking him back toward her.
“What?” He growled, shaking off her hand. Zara only pointed to where she was staring.
Standing there like Goliath among a sea of Davids, was a man with short cropped hair so pale blond as to appear white. His stance was rigid, speaking of discomfort and slight confusion.
Though only a person who knew him would be able to tell. Anyone else casting him a glance--and there were many doing just that--would only see how strong he looked, how intimidating his steely eyes were.
“I’ll be fucking damned.” Nixon gave a low whistle.
“Well come on!” Zara grabbed his wrist and started dragging him through the crowd. They stopped at the man’s side just as he turned, his gaze sweeping the area. Though he stopped suddenly when his eyes locked onto them.
One eyebrow quirked slightly as he surveyed them.
“Hello,” Zara said, feeling oddly nervous but excited. Almost like when she was a child and got to meet Santa Claus at the mall.
“Hello.” His voice was deep, a low rumble, and tinged with an accent she couldn’t place yet.
“I’m Zara Logan, and this is Nixon Barrowman.” She almost felt like she should salute, but instead she settled for standing a little straighter, shoulders back.
“Pleasure, Kadin Bashir.” He held out his hand, it was large and seemed to swallow hers, however she was able to place his accent as British.
“What brings you here…. from the United States, correct?” Kadin reached out to shake Nixon’s hand, Nixon shook it slowly but rolled his eyes.
“Cut the damned pleasantries, you know very well why we’re here…. O Fearless Leader.”
“Good to see you still have no decorum.” Kadin pinched the bridge of nose, letting out a deep sigh.
“All right boys, let's go find somewhere to talk. I think we have a lot of catching up to do.”