Tea and Hot Chocolate

[Lucien "Ishtar" Darcy]

As soon as the door closed behind the pair, Lucien visibly relaxed. Most of his mind told him that it had been too long since he’d been outside, but there were parts that told him that wasn’t true. He didn’t bother to listen to one over the other. All that he cared about was the smell and the feel of the breeze against his bare skin. Despite the redhead’s lack of suitable clothing he was far from uncomfortable outside. The air wasn’t particularly warm or cold, but it was cool against Lucien’s skin. The fire that he had woken with racing through his veins subsided a bit more as the wind caressed his skin. His heart didn’t feel quite so heavy.

“Thank you.” The words of gratitude were soft but sincere. His tears had dried up for the moment, but his eyes were wet with the threat of more if Lucien lost his grip on them. Taking a deep breath, Lucien slowly stepped away from his escort to further enjoy the sense of freedom that being outside brought with it. Green eyes closed, and Lucien opened his posture a bit more, spreading his arms as the breeze blew again and occasionally spinning as he walked in a lazy circle. It was the greatest reward, and one he very rarely obtained. Ishtar’s smart remarks often kept a day outside a mostly unreachable goal. Usually he would have to settle for unbound afternoons when he would be free to lay on the floor where the sunlight fell from the window. Occasionally though, he was well behaved enough to earn some relaxation time outside. That time was supervised of course. It had only taken one day of Lucien wanting to see how far the estate extended for that rule to be enacted. It had been Lucien’s choice through. Take a guard or go out bound. He’d chosen a chaperone who occasionally provided some welcome company.

With his puzzle pieces no longer threatening to be engulfed in some void, Lucien breathed easier. Some of the terror lingering in his eyes subsided, and he slowly turned back to Sakura. There was no smile yet, for its puzzle piece lay hidden in the pile Lucien had made, but the haze in his eyes had cleared a bit. For a few moments he stood looking at Sakura. First she was simply his chaperone, but once recognition had settled in his mind and reconnected a few pieces for him, Lucien recognized her as his source of comfort again. For a few moments longer he continued to stare at her, debating something and eyeing the mug on her tray which was most likely meant for him though he wouldn’t take it without permission. “You…asked me before if I wanted to talk…” Lucien’s voice was still hollow like half of him was speaking to Sakura and half to a memory. The relief and sincerity that had filled his voice before had been replaced by uncertainty and hesitation. Part of him, most of him, wanted to talk, but he was uncertain about what, and if it was even a good idea to talk. “Some part of me does but…”

From somewhere inside, glass shattered loudly and terror quickly returned to Lucien’s eyes. He’d heard that sound too many times to not have a conditioned response in this state. Had he not chosen to step away from his guardian already, Lucien would have sought her protection again, but separated as they were, Lucien could only try and distance himself further from the building. One hand sought his cheek, the other his braid, and Lucien took a few stumbling steps backward. His usual grace escaped him, and Lucien tripped falling to the grass, but his eyes remained trained on the door, fearfully expecting someone to come out to forcefully retrieve him and drag him back inside.

[Sakura Shizuka]

The wind blew sharply, causing Sakura to twitch slightly as a shiver ran down her spine. It was barely sunrise, so the weather was at least 10 degrees cooler than normal. Add that to the lovely wind, and it was enough for the young Commander to want to turn right around and seek refuge in her warm bed. Now as for the reason why a cold-hater like she was doing out at the ass-crack of dawn, wearing nothing but a thin cardigan over her regular attire was quite simple: Lucien.

The previous night had been rather eventful and most of it was due to the resident French playboy. Lucien, who was known to be flamboyant, promiscuous, and an overall pain in Sakura’s neck, had been…anything but. Instead of being a complete perv-ball, he showed a sign of weakness…one the Sakura was not accustomed to seeing. It did not frighten her or anything…rather, it worried her. Something was plaguing the man’s mind, resulting in him not only to burn himself, but to go as far and have a literal breakdown in front of her. Lucien was known to be many things…a crybaby was not one of them.

So she brought him out here. She figured that he could use a bit of fresh air, as the kitchen back inside was soon becoming overly crowded. And besides, fresh air always helped to clear one’s mind, right? Sakura was no doctor, but she knew enough about mental states to know that a good sit outside was the best cure for emotional breakdowns. That and tea. But, seeing that this was Darcy, hot chocolate would most likely be just as good.

“Thank you.” It was a simple statement. Yet, those two words held the most honesty Sakura had ever heard from the Frenchman. A gentle smile crept up the corners of her mouth.
“Anytime.” And she meant it. Sakura felt that part of her job as Commander was to see to it that her subordinates were both physically and mentally stable. So if it meant that she would have to sit up all night with a certain redhead crying on her shoulder, she would do it.

But part of her questioned if that was really her only motivation. After all, Sakura may have been the mother-hen and overall worrywart, but she generally only showed this much affection and attention towards Anju or Izumi. So for her to be like this towards Lucien could only mean…perhaps she had begun to see him as someone more than the everyday acquaintance? Perhaps she had actually began to see him as a…friend? Perverted nature and all. Sakura eyed Lucien, her eyebrows furrowed in thought as she watched the man take in the morning breeze. ‘…friend, huh?’ Could she really open up to him? The last person Sakura considered to be a true friend was Izumi (Anju being a more parental figure), and the last thing Sakura wanted do a repeat of that…to get close to somebody, only to have to turn her sword on them. Lucien was from France. There was no guarantee that he would forever remain with the Black Knights. At anytime he could simply declare himself to be a spy from France and abandon them, turning from friend to foe in a heartbeat. And then the heartache would begin all over again…

Quickly shaking the thought from her mind, Sakura decided to settle down on the grass, placing the tray beside her. “You…asked me before if I wanted to talk…” Sakura turned her head to Lucien, her hand holding the handle of her tea mug. It let go and she turned fully to face him. She said nothing, but her gaze held firm, as if trying to tell him that it was alright to continue. “Some part of me does but…” ‘But?’ Was that hesitation in his voice? Sakura’s eyes narrowed slightly and she opened her mouth to speak but a loud crash from inside caused her to whirl her head around.
Slight panic began to fill her. What had happened? Was Anju alright? Was she hurt? Should she go back and make sure? A soft thud from nearby caught Sakura’s attention and she turned her head back around.

The sight was enough to make her heart bleed. There, sitting on the grass, one hand clutching his braid, the other holding his cheek, a look of pure terror on his face, was Lucien. Forgetting about the noise momentarily, Sakura stood up and slowly walked towards Lucien. She looked at him with worry-filled eyes before kneeling down so that she was eye level. A hand reached out and was placed over his. “Darcy.” It was more of a statement rather than a question. “Darcy, it’s alright.” She leaned over and placed a delicate kiss to his forehead before pulling Lucien into another hug. “It’s alright, Darcy…no one is going to hurt you. Relax…no one will ever hurt you…”

Sakura did not know a lot about the man who was Lucien’s ‘boss’ in France. But from what she had heard over conversations and through her own little searching, she felt that she could safely conclude that the man was not exactly the caring type. Perhaps that was what was worrying him? That he would be forced back to some abusive life.

Her eyes narrowed to slits. Over her dead body.

Her grip on him tightened. “Ever.”

[Lucien "Ishtar" Darcy]

A glaze had settled over Lucien’s eyes again, and he stared at the door waiting for a guest, a guard, or worse Master himself, to come and retrieve him. He didn’t know what the argument had been about. He didn’t know who had shattered what, but he knew what came next. Either Lucien would be used to placate the guest or Master would take His anger out on him. He’d actually prefer entertaining the guest. That was always easier than enduring Master’s anger because when He wanted to hurt, He knew just the right soft spots to poke, and with Lucien already in pieces, he would have a hard time hiding behind Ishtar’s sharp tongue.

No one was coming to get him, but Lucien remained where he was on the ground too scared to dare to run. He wouldn’t make it far enough, and Master’s anger would always be worse. No one was coming through the door, but that didn’t make the terror leave Lucien’s eyes. So when a hand fell over his own, his first reaction was to cringe and tense in preparation of a harsh grip around his wrist or a stinging hurt on his other cheek from a different hand. Ishtar wasn’t reacting. Lucien couldn’t find his pieces. They were buried somewhere in the pile that Lucien had no hope of reassembling in time. Plus, they were small and hard to find. His protector persona wouldn’t be able to hide him, so Lucien could only pray for his best case scenario. He hoped that it was Master’s guest that sought him, and that he would simply be dragged inside to provide entertainment. That he could do readily, even in this state, and with any luck Master would never know.

When neither the tug nor the blow came, however, green eyes timidly looked to the silhouette in front of him. The scene that he was imagining blended halfway with the actual scene before him, and Lucien identified the shape of a woman. Women guests were rarer than the men. Sure Master had plenty, but He rarely brought them here. Those that did visit, however, were much the same as the men for Lucien’s purposes. Now though it was a tender touch over his own hand and when their eyes met, he saw they were full of concern. Lucien was quick to avert his gaze; he shouldn’t look her in the eye, but he had and he’d seen her worry. Why she was concerned for him, Lucien didn’t understand right away. “Darcy.” That was not a name Master or his friends called him, and the haze over his vision lifted a bit. Only one person called him that, and his imagined scene faded some more. It was enough to allow him to identify Sakura. “Darcy it’s alright.”

Lucien understood her concern now, and he slowly raised his eyes to her again as she kissed his forehead. Her arms encircled him, and Lucien trembled in her embrace. He didn’t know if he was trembling in fear of the ghosts that were haunting him, in fear of not being able to put himself back together, or simply because of the cold. He was pretty sure it was a combination of all three, but cold outside was infinitely better than warm inside and there was little he could do to fix the other two. “It’s alright, Darcy… no one is going to hurt you.” Wet green eyes widened, and he looked to Sakura surprised. She knew. How did she know? Lucien didn’t know, nor did he particularly care at the moment. He simply melted into her embrace and rested his forehead against her shoulder as his hands clung to her shirt. A few tears fell from his eyes and his breath came in shaky gasps as he held tight to his guardian needing to ground himself in something real before he got consumed by memories and ghosts again. “Relax… no one will ever hurt you…” The comment warmed Lucien’s heart because he knew she was sincere and it was what he wanted to hear, but it also made him sick because he knew it wasn’t true. But he made no objection as her arms tightened around him. He eagerly took whatever comfort from her that she would provide. “Ever…”

“Don’t…” Lucien’s voice was quiet, and his words occasionally caught in his throat as he tried to force his voice to work. “Please… don’t, Mis—” The word came unbidden, but he caught himself. “—Sakura. You can’t… you can’t promise me that, so please… don’t.” Lucien begged of her. He wanted to hear it, but no matter how good it made him feel to hear, he couldn’t bear finding it a false hope. No matter how good her intentions, she couldn’t promise him that. Lucien tightened his grip on her, trying to become as small as he could against her and absorb all the comfort she was offering. “This is enough.” And it was for now.

[Sakura Shizuka]

Sakura continued to hold the Frenchman close to her, instincts taking over as her hand ran over the top of his, stroking it comfortingly. Her mind wandered briefly back to the kitchen and the loud clamor from before. Was everything alright in there? No one decided to burn themselves, right? Anju hadn’t gone crazy and unleashed Lockjaw on someone? As amusing as the idea was, Sakura’s hands were (literally) full right now.

A soft sigh escaped her throat as she felt wetness on her skin. He was crying. Again. Twice within one evening the man shed tears. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly in worry. ‘Just what the hell happened to you, Darcy…’


“Don’t…” Lucien’s voice snapped Sakura out of her thoughts and she quickly loosened her grip slightly to look down at the playboy, confusion on her face. Was she being too invasive? Perhaps she was being too much of an emotional comfort pillow. People had different preferences when it came to venting to others. Some used people like Kleenex tissues. Others chose to sit in corners and grow mushrooms. While farming didn’t seem to fit Lucien’s personality, who was she to judge? She didn’t know the man for that long. For all she knew, all of her constant doting could be annoying for him and-
“Please… don’t, Mis—“ An eyebrow arched. “—Sakura…” Much better. While Sakura would have normally rebuked the man for using her first name, she supposed she ought to let it slide this time (not that it ever made a difference…). You can’t… you can’t promise me that, so please… don’t.”

It took Sakura a minute to realize what Lucien was referring to. But when she did, her eyes narrowed to slits. So. That’s how it was, was it? Little playboy thought he could tell her what she could and could not do, eh? Thought that whoever those punks were back en France were too much for her to handle, eh? A wild glint shown in her eyes. Interesting~

“This is enough.” Her arms tightened reflectively as Lucien clung closer to her. Well, guess that pretty much struck out the thought of the French boy not liking cuddles. She looked down at the top of him, her eyes narrowed slightly as she held his quivering form.

She slowly separated Lucien from her and held his face in her hands so that emerald locked with green. “Shut up.” She said, blunt as a nail, yet her touch remained gentle. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can or cannot do, Darcy. I do not give a damn who the hell you are all freaked out about, but I promise you-and don’t you dare say I can’t-if you do not want to go back, you will not. As far as I am concerned you are one of my men, Darcy. I am not about to hand over my men to some snot-nosed Frenchman. If whoever it is tries to do anything that is against your will, he will have to do it over my rotting corpse. Do you understand me? When I say ‘no one is ever going to hurt you, I mean it Darcy. I do not know what exactly happened back in France, or whoever this person you are so scared of is. But frankly, I do not care. “ A somewhat challenging glint came to her eyes. “If he wants to try to take me on, I say bring it.”

She leaned back and gave Lucien a somewhat cheeky grin. “So don’t worry your pretty head too much, alright?” She wiped the tear streaks from his cheek before patting his cheek twice.

Standing up, Sakura walked over to where the tray with the two mugs had been left and brought them back over to Lucien, handing the playboy his hot chocolate. Placing the tray between them, Sakura Adjusted herself so that she was sitting next to him, legs crossed over one another, Sakura looked out towards the sunrise, a moment of silence falling on the pair momentarily.

“I get scared too.” She said breaking the silence with a sip of her tea. “I have a phobia for thunderstorms. Especially the lightening.” The rational side of her was trying to fathom why she was even telling this story, yet her mouth still rambled on. “It’s been like that ever since I was a child. I think it started when I was around five. My father took me to the forest for a camping trip where we got separated. That evening it rained and I experienced my first thunderstorm alone. Been frightened ever since.” she bit out a cold laugh, her head shaking as more cold chuckled escaped her throat. “Ironic, isn’t it? I can handle being held at gun point without breaking a sweat, but the sound of a little thunder has me crawling under my sheets like some child.”

She took another sip, sighing in content. Why had she told Lucien that story, anyways? It wasn’t something she liked to publicize- her weaknesses. Yet, for some reason, a part of her felt that maybe, just maybe, Lucien would be more willing to let off whatever was plaguing his mind if she chipped in first. Or maybe it was because she wanted to let the man know he wasn’t alone in being afraid. Sure their fears were on completely different levels, but the general idea remained the same, right? She mentally shrugged. Whatever. It was out in the open now. As for whether or not she would become the laughing stock of the Black Knights tomorrow was a different story.

She turned her head over to Lucien, her face neutral before a soft smile crept up the corners as a hand went to ruffle the top of his head.

“So when is my Darcy coming home?”