C.C. Saves the Day

Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass.

Really, with so much theory regarding Lelouch being alive in the end, I cannot help but propose my own little theory, which is certainly very viable and fits with the incriminating evidence of Lulu being alive littered throughout the whole episode. (Sarcasm sarcasm)

It's srz bznz I tell ya.

C.C. stared at the struggling, gagged boy with utmost boredom. She ignored his razor sharp glares and continued addressing Jeremiah. "Yes, you're right, it would be too much of a risk to depend on an item like this." She twirled a strand of hair lazily and tossed Jeremiah the item in question. "It's cheap."

"Well," Jeremiah inspected the item at hand, touching it and feeling it in a way one does when checking the quality of gold. "I did buy it in a 100 yen shop. It is only expected due to the lack of budget - I am quite surprised we didn't hire a bunch of acrobatic dancers to accompany his parade." Despite being loyal to a fault, he was not at all ignorant of Lelouch's penchant for the dramatics. He was much like his father in that regard – Jeremiah quickly muttered a quiet apology for thinking such blasphemous thoughts while giving a look of sympathy to the official king of Britannia who still managed to look oddly elegant in that annoyed male model look way despite being gagged and bound helpless. Perhaps it was only due to his royal clothing C.C. had not bothered to remove and exchange with a more comfortable set, claiming that it would only hurt her innocent eyes to do so.

Paying Lelouch no heed, C.C. crossed her arms. "We have to do better than this. Using such cheap wig for our very important mission is a needless compromise. Regardless of budget."

"What do you propose then, mistress C.C.?"

Still bound, Lelouch stared incredulously at his now damned ex-loyal subordinate Jeremiah. Since when is C.C. his mistress? The blow she dealt him with Cheese-kun must have knocked him unconscious longer than he thought. Perhaps she resorted to slip drugs into his food. After this is over, he would drag her into an alley, proceed to gag her, then-

"Simple," the witch replied, "this, Orange, is something we need to take into our own hands. How much have you got?"

Ora- Jeremiah reached into his pockets, and after an epic battle of stuffing and successfully extracting a wad of cash from his sexy, tight pants, he held his palm towards C.C. with his findings. "5200 yen in total. They didn't leave me with much retirement money."

"412 yen." She paused to contemplate; slightly irked that their mission to save the world was being dangerously close to failing due to a trivial matter such as budgeting. Lelouch's credit card was out as it went bankrupt a while ago due to one of her Cheese-kun rages. She had to procure another source. After a brief pause she said simply, "I'll borrow from Suzaku."

Jeremiah gave her a salute. "Our future lies in your hand, mistress C.C.!"

Lelouch would have gagged from the exchange if he was not already gagged.


Later he appraised himself for his use of such a clever pun.

The knight of zero brooded. He sat on the edge of his bed in his room with the curtains drawn tight. His hands resting at the hilt of his sword, he could only stare at them – those sinning hands; mere tools, camaraderie of the fallen and the traitorous. And tomorrow it was another crimson stain that would bequeath his wish, for world peace, for Euphie's world, for a mask of heroism and lies and deceit, for the life of his friend.

Oh yes, he brooded. And for some odd reason, Suzaku was only ever poetic when he brooded. Perhaps it was the stupor one enters from lack of food and hallucination inducing cannabis, but he was a poet in brooding, and none shall interrupt his masterpiece in work.

Oh, shut up, really, at least he didn't blog or use a cutter for anything but to cut his shoe laces when he had tied it wrong.

And thus he ignored the creaking of his door, and the green haired woman that had entered in the brief cacophony.

He ignored her when she nonchalantly strode across the room and bent down to retrieve his carelessly tossed wallet from the sheet strewn floor.

He ignored her when she quirked an eyebrow in incredulity at the (lack of) content inside, and he ignored her when she smiled slyly when she found his new visa card, or her genuine smile when she discovered his lifetime worth of pizza hut coupons.

And he ignored her when she flicked through his hidden porn stash and chuckled in amusement, occasionally commenting about his bad taste.

And he ignored her when she carried out her newly hoarded stash and exited his room with a loud slam.

Suzaku was uninterrupted in his brooding.

For the umpteenth time that day, Lelouch focused his entire willpower into a single ominous glare.

Nonchalantly twirling the upgraded wig on one hand and sporting a pizza on the other, C.C. returned his stare with a flat look. "If you should know, contrary to popular belief, glares do not kill. It would be wiser to save the energy for your attempt at a break out." She said, with a slight twinge of amusement behind the sarcasm. "Not that it would work. You need more muscle, Lelouch."

"Shut up!" he spat; bound hands trembling in poorly masked anger. "That plan is folly! Zero Requiem was not created to be carried by an impostor, this is it, my atonement, my creation of a new world! And you- you dare waltz into my room, beat me unconscious with Cheese-kun, bound and gag me, bring Orange into your plan, and jeopardize Zero Requiem with this- this Operation strike Cheese-kun!?"

C.C. dismissed his outburst with a wave of her pizza. "Not Cheese-kun. Cheese-chan. She's always the subtle one."

"By gods, witch, have your years of immortality somehow damaged your brain? This. Will. Simply. Not. Work."

"If you should know, Lelouch, being a martyr isn't all that glorifying. The only recognition you will have is a few paragraphs of your deeds accompanied by a badly portrayed picture of you in Wikipedia a century later, only occasionally visited by bored visitors with nothing to do but to snoop into people's past. Hardly a glory worth death."

Mouth agape, he stared at the witch in profound disbelief. "Are you stu-"

"Oh well," C.C. cut in with finality and rose in a flourish of green, "it's time. Orange, attend to me."

Jeremiah gave her a bow suited for a royal. "As you wish," and followed her towards the door.

It slid open noiselessly, and before she stepped out, she glanced back and curved her lips into a sly smile. "You will see how perfect it all is. I left the TV on for your viewing pleasure." She chuckled and disappeared from view.

Lelouch gritted his teeth, and wished he had spent more time on the gym when he was able. Damn his lanky physique.

Not two hours later, he was greeted by a familiar figure on the forty inch LCD screen. Should physics and his dignity allowed it; his jaw would have touched the floor from the sight.

"The one and only 99th emperor of the Holy Empire of Britannia, as well as the CEO of the Black Knights, and the second supreme council chairman of the united federation of nations, His Majesty, Lelouch vi Britannia has appeared. And behold..."

C.C. maintained a perfectly composed bearing as Lelouch's ugly tank-like litter travelled down the street with the prisoners in tow. That boy really had no taste in aesthetics. In truth she was annoyed. Her head itched from the cheap wig, her eyes felt dry from the equally cheap disposable violet lens, and she was in constant danger from spraining an ankle from the raised shoes she wore to appear taller. Her shoulders were hot from bearing a stuffed pad to broaden it, and she was having trouble breathing due to constricted chest.

Who knew being a man would be so painful?

She even stuffed padding down there to ensure perfection at any cost. Freud would have a field trip with the penis envy theory of his.

(She would know; they were on first name basis before she made fun of that theory, after all.)

Her reverie was interrupted as the tank-litter hybrid halted into a stop, and suddenly the mass broke the previously intangible silence with proclamations of Zero. Indeed, Zero stood there; cape swishing in the wind, pose taut, and all the more heroic with his back dramatically facing the sun.

It would have been better if this happened at night time with a random spotlight at the sky, C.C. mused. Not forgetting that staring at Zero absently would be an out of character action on Lelouch's part, she made the effort to widen her eyes and rearrange her feature into mock surprise at the sudden twist of plot.

Then, Zero launched into attack. Simultaneously breaking multiple laws of physics that would certainly cause various physicists to roll in their graves, Zero had managed to dodge bullets from three knightmares and maintain his godly running speed that would shame every Olympic athlete while totting that ridiculous, stuffy, and needlessly heavy mask of his.

(She made note to calculate how much resistance Zero's cape poses towards a body in motion. It was definite that they should have had taken him for research, not her. It was also certain that gravity still worked on him. She had tested this by dropping an apple on him.)

She watched as he did several superhuman leaps: over Jeremiah, towards Schneizel, up onto Nunally's platform, and finally towards Lelouch's throne.

"You cretin!" she shouted in his deep soprano voice as her gun went flying from Zero's assault. Yes, she even had the voice department covered by a voice changing device wedged on the collar of her clothing. She had conveniently acquired the idea from a certain detective comic.

Step one: complete.

She feigned a sad smile as Zero prepared to strike with that awfully fancy sword of his. Really, they both needed a check in the taste department.

Oblivious of his ridiculous pose with that winged sword, he angled himself and lunged.

She braced herself and felt the sword penetrated her chest and drove the breath out of her. The pained groan was not feigned, however. The pain was all too genuine. Lelouch should be thankful that she had saved him this much pain, at least. And darn, delivering your lines while being impaled on a fancy ornamental sword was hard. C.C. suddenly inspired upon herself a newfound respect for various action movie stuntmen. The problem was what to do next; the thought of just dropping dead suddenly in a dramatic pose just didn't seem to fit Lelouch's love for extravagance. Should she do a dramatic somersault? Or-

A sudden spurt of inspiration hit her. It was quite probable that she could end this properly; without dropping dead to her feet at first chance.

"This is also your punishment," she stuttered, and, struggling to think of what Lelouch would say, slumped forward onto Zero as she conjured up the rest of the monologue in that split second allotted. "You will be the defender of justice and wear a mask forever..." she bought another few seconds by pausing to cradle his helm with her bloodied hand. "You will no longer be able to live as Kururugi Suzaku. You will sacrifice your entire happiness for the world... eternally." She deliberately croaked the last part for an added effect of dying. She thought it was quite a long monologue for a dying man, as they always seem to die after half-a-sentence. But given Lelouch's love for antics, it was only appropriate. It would be quite rude not to properly bid goodbye to Suzaku either, she decided.

"I accept... that geass." She heard him say, and suddenly the sword was retracted from her flesh. She winced. That part always hurt the most. If she had the chance of meeting him again, she would be tactful as to remind him not to suddenly withdraw sharp things from a dying man – at least do so when the man was truly dead. That boy needed to learn etiquettes, really. As if having trouble breathing from the binds around her chest was not enough. It seemed like her chest had a lifetime's worth of abuse in a day.

Well, at least step two was complete. There was only a final farewell left.

C.C. stumbled forward, and, after a nanosecond second of checking to see whether her wig was still in its intended place (fitting all her hair inside has taken the finer part of an hour, she didn't want it ruined after so much work dedicated to it), and making sure that her fall would be so that she would not risk a sprained ankle; she fell headfirst down the ramp and rolled down – stopping at Nunally's side. She hoped her face was ashen enough to properly mimic a dying Lelouch.

"Onii-sama?" poor Nunally inquired, but C.C. remained motionless, already judging that 'Lelouch' would have lost enough blood to be unable to deliver another three minutes of monologue. Never mind that the wound was starting to heal already. She felt Nunally's touch on her hand, and in a brief bout of enlightenment, she improvised by sending a few images of Lelouch's planning in the world of C and later with Suzaku to at least redeem his honour on Nunally's eyes. She always did things for him in those odd little ways.

"It can't be... Onii-sama, you were... all along..." it seemed to work for Nunally began to cry and grasped her hands tightly. "Onii-sama, I love you!"

C.C. felt it was perfect timing to deliver Lelouch's final speech. She let her eyes moisten (not an easy task, seeing that the cheap lenses had no mercy for the moisture in her eyes) as half closed them as befitting of a dying mortal. "Yes... I... destroy worlds... create... worlds."

And finally, she closed her eyes.

Third step: complete.

What was left was to wait for Jeremiah, and hope that he was cunning enough to smuggle her body away. She had had enough of being burned alive, after all.

On another note, she should win an Oscar for this.

Somewhere back in their secret hideout, Lelouch's (live) jaw had finally hit the floor as he stared at the bloodied corpse of Lelouch (dead) on the screen.

And thus that was how the mighty C.C. had saved the day: by sacrificing her Cheese-kun to knock the poor king unconscious and later sacrificed herself by masquerading as Lelouch and thus saving himself from a potentially shounen-ai scene of getting impaled by Suzaku's sword.

(And that, folks, sounded mighty dirty.)

For a totally unknown reason.

Except, perhaps, as often speculated by hoping fans, that she was, and had always - for some unexplainable reason – been hopelessly in love with him. Never mind the fact that besides a few kisses here and then, Lelouch seemed to be utterly incapable of love.

Of course, the theoretical good ending would be that Lelouch had managed to escape his atonement and martyrdom, and spends the rest of his days travelling peacefully with village girl version of C.C. throughout rural Britannia/Japan for the rest of their (perhaps immortal?) lives.

And they get to roll around the hay a lot too.


I wrote this fic simply for the sake of fun. Thus, in order not to ruin my fun, please don't flame. If you do, I write moar stoopid ficz liek dis, key?

Tee-hee. Gigglydoo.