by Brit Columbia
Rating: T, I guess. This chapter is fairly worksafe. Sort of. Timing: Set in August in the first year of the FFYT series. That means it happened before Slave to A Gladiator.
Spoilers: Volume 7 of Sanami Matoh's Fake series
Disclaimer: All of these characters belong to Sanami Matoh. I make no money for writing fanfiction about them.
Author's notes: This is a Happy Birthday fic for lunasariel , who has been my LJ friend for years! Thanks for all the times you read and enjoyed my stories, and also for keeping me entertained with your own thought-provoking posts. I hope the coming year is both awesome and happy for you. Your exact request was "Can it pretty please involve the Commissioner being a lecherous jerk? With a possible side order of Ryo being awesome? ^.^" Well, that is exactly what will happen in this story, although Ryo has not shown up yet.
by Brit Columbia
Diana sat at the table, scratching one magenta lacquered fingernail against the tablecloth. Berkie sure was taking his time in the men's room. Perhaps the poor dear was constipated, she thought with a grim smile. But when Berkeley returned to her a few minutes later adjusting his tie, his swollen upper lip and disordered hair told a different story. She gave him one razor-sharp glance and then swept her eyes around the dining room. There was no sign of that waiter who had been so blatantly hitting on him earlier. Had he really just screwed that guy in the men's room? When he was out on a date with her? The nerve of that bastard. She wasn't about to let him get away with that.
"Are you ready to go, my dear?" he asked her, lowering himself easily into his seat.
"Yes, if you are, Berkie. Sure you don't want any dessert?" She kept her voice casual as she picked up the single-sheet dessert menu.
He shook his head and smiled enigmatically. "Not for me, thanks. I believe I've already sampled the best delights this establishment has to offer this evening."
I'll just bet you have. Diana did not say this aloud although she wanted to. Instead, she fought down her feelings and tossed the menu back onto the table. Summoning up her best seductive smile, she purred, "Let's go, then."
Berkeley was silent as they walked out of the restaurant, which was characteristic of him, Diana reflected. He usually became quiet and somewhat withdrawn after sex, and his face would take on a thoughtful and distant expression, as if his mind had gone on a solitary journey to far-off lands. Fortunately, it was a short-lived phenomenon, and he was usually ready for another round fairly soon after. Berkeley's famous dick had a pretty impressive bounce-back time, considering he was no spring chicken.
Not that he was going to be needing his dick again tonight, she thought somewhat bitterly. It was too bad for both of them. She had been looking forward to making love with him later, but she couldn't even consider that now. Not after his self-serving and disrespectful behavior back at the restaurant. She wondered who else in that place, besides that slut of a waiter, was in on the joke. Was he in the habit of screwing the staff while his dates waited obliviously for him at the table? She might have to go back there and teach them a lesson someday soon. But not, of course, in any way that Berk could trace back to her.
In any case, that could wait. Serving Berkley a little comeuppance was at the top of her agenda for now. She'd better do it quick before his eyes lost that faraway look and he returned to his usual sharp and perceptive self.
The valet parking guy pulled up in Berkeley's Cadillac and got out, smiling. "Good evening, Commissioner Rose, sir!"
He held out the keys, but before Berkeley could take them, Diana took a step forward and neatly plucked them from his hand.
"Ma-, er, Miss?" the young man said, glancing from her to Berkeley, his smile faltering momentarily. Diana wasn't sure whether he was more worried about his tip or something else. She didn't like the ways his eyes had been shining at the sight of Berkeley. God, was she getting paranoid or what?
Ignoring him altogether, Diana turned a five hundred-watt smile on her companion. "Let me drive, Sweetie. You know how I love big, strong, powerful... engines."
Berkeley's face started to look slightly more alert. She knew he didn't want to let her drive his car. Berkeley was the type who preferred to drive, rather than be driven. He occasionally suffered the services of a chauffeur if protocol demanded it, but he very much preferred to drive his own vehicles.
"Now, Diana," he began. "I know you are enamored of my, er car, but I do want to remind you that the traffic patterns of New York City are quite different from the open highways of California. Perhaps it would be better if-"
"Nonsense, darling!" She strode around to the driver's side of the car and smiled dazzlingly at the other valet, a younger but slightly less cute version of the first one. He dragged his eyes up from her cleavage, and hastened to open the door for her with a flourish. Diana rewarded him by patting his cheek before turning her attention back to Berkeley. "Driving in New York City is exactly like driving in LA. There's nothing to it, right..." she glanced at the young valet's name tag- "Jerry?"
He concurred enthusiastically, but hesitated when he became aware that his co-worker was trying to send him a warning look. Berkeley's smile seemed frozen in place, and Diana knew she had won. He wasn't going to fight with her in front of the valets, but he'd probably make her pull over at the first suitable opportunity and change places with him. All she had to do right now was to help him save face.
"Come on, Berkieeee," she said cajolingly, sending him a smoldering look across the top of the car. "You know how thrilling it is for me to handle a stick shift instead of that boring automatic transmission on my dull little car back home. Pretty please?" She made her eyes go big and round, and pouted her lips out.
"Of course, my dear," Berkely said sardonically. "I place my life in your capable hands." He nodded to the valet nearest him and handed the man a folded bill before getting into the passenger side of the car. He had no sooner gotten the door closed when the car lurched forward with a roar.
"Wheee!" squealed Diana.
Berkely said nothing because he was too busy struggling to get his seat belt on. It wasn't easy, as the G's from Diana's rapid acceleration were pressing him back in his seat. When she took a sharp left, she could have sworn the wheels on Berkeley's side of the car left the ground briefly. She hoped he was scared, the bastard. He didn't know it yet, but he ought to be.
-end of chapter one-