Rated: PG-13
Pairings and warnings: secret, but I guess you know me...
Disclaimer: X belongs to Clamp. "Black Velvet" belongs
to Alannah Myles. Casey's mine, and if someone
can drag her out of my liquor cabinet, I'd be
grateful.
Club Regina: Do You Remember Love?
Part 1
by Beth
The slamming door of the cab almost caught the bottom of Seishirou's coat. The driver drove off, tires screeching.
"Did you have to talk to him like that?" Seishirou muttered.
His companion grinned. "It was fun," Fuuma said.
They stood in front of an entrance to a club. It wasn't a nightclub of the present meaning, a place to dance to what Seishirou termed 'incomprehensible noise'. It was the real classic thing, from the curling neon sign proclaiming it the "Club Regina" to the red canopy over their heads.
"Why did you want to go here with me, anyway?" the assassin asked.
/Kamui/ shrugged. "Satsuki said it'd be fun."
In the dressing room, the singer struggled with the evening dress, or rather the zip.
"Shimatta..." echoed in the small room.
A Caucasian girl in a similar evening gown stuck her head through the half-open door and laughed.
"Honestly, Sakura!" she said with a pronounced London accent. "You'd think that after doing this for a month you'd at least get the hang of putting on the dress!"
"Could you please shut up, Casey?"
"Suuuure..." Casey laughed and helped Sakura with the current emergency. "There you go, girlfriend, gorgeous as ever."
A death glare was her only answer.
"What, cat got your tongue? Just don't do it on the stage!"
"You too," Sakura reminded her. "Not like the last time."
"No whisky for me today, understood, sir!" She giggled. "I mean, madam!"
"You sure this the place?"
It looked like Sorata was having second thoughts. Serious second thoughts, Kamui mused, while he attempted to unattatch the Star of Koya from a lamppost.
"Yes, I'm sure!" he snapped. He took out the card from his pocket -- yep, "Club Regina" it was. "I need to check what this place is, I want to know what Subaru's been doing for the past few weeks, and I am not going in there alone."
"What'd he be looking for in a night club?" Sorata protested. "He's not into girls..."
Kamui chanced a glance around the corner at the entrance of the club. "I think this place caters for all types."
"But-"
"You're supposed to protect me with all your strength."
"But-" Sorata's voice wavered, faced with a pair of tearful violet eyes.
Kamui sighed. "Let me put it this way. Either you go there with me, or I blow you up. And tell Arashi what I caught you reading last week."
"Eep."
Seishirou made his way through the crowd to the table that two of his acquaintances were sitting by, Fuuma following closely.
"Katsu, Hiroshi, good to see you," the assassin smiled, slipping flawlessly into his "work" persona. "I do hope the new singer here is all you've told me." He seemed to notice the youth trailing him for the first time. "Oh, and this is Fuuma Monou. Fuuma, meet Katsuhiro Hagiwara and Hiroshi Saito."
Katsuhiro, a blond-haired man in his early thirties, grinned at them. "Trust me, Sakura's all that and more. Not to mention the mystery..."
"Mystery?" Fuuma asked.
It was the brown-haired, older one, who answered; Hiroshi. "No-one knows her age, history, even what she really is... in this place there's quite a few options to choose from. There's a lot of wagers going on this."
The two Dragons of Heaven made their way into the Club Regina, slightly surprised when they were not carded. Sorata's surprise, at least, grew even larger when he realized that most of the males in the place wore suits, and the women were in cocktail or evening dresses.
"What kind of nightclub is this??" he complained.
Kamui kept quiet, taking in the subdued decor, the autographed photos of famous singers (the ones closest to him were identified by the captions as respectively Ru Paul and Patti Labelle) on the dark oak walls and the tables that crowded the floor, leaving only enough place for a small dancefloor and the slightly raised stage, on which some musicians were setting up their instruments. He tugged Sorata over to the bar.
"What'll it be?" the bartender asked cheerfully.
"Two Cokes, please." Kamui decided to play it safe and avoid unnecessary commotion, at least until he found why Subaru had had this club's flyer in his coat pocket.
"Keeping your heads clear? Good choice, the singer starts in a few minutes. Come to hear our dear Sakura, have you?"
"Uh.... yes?" Sorata volunteered.
"Well, you're not the only ones, this place certainly picked up a bit since she started. And Casey too, 'cept Sakura can be trusted to remember the words."
A waitress approached them and Seishirou ordered drinks all around. "When does the show start?" he asked.
"In a few minutes," Hiroshi said. "Usually Sakura sings one song and then takes a break, that's when the band plays. Or Casey-" He opened his eyes wide, looking at someone across the room. "Speak of the devil."
Katsuhiro motioned to the woman. She hurried toward them, paying no heed on whose toes she stepped. She was an attractive if not classically beautiful red-haired Caucasian in a sleeveless, strapless black evening dress that was liberally sprinkled with red glittering beads.
"Hi!" she exclaimed, flopping down in one of the two free chairs. "Katsu, you're looking good! And you, Hiroshi... sure you don't want to meet after hours?" She gave the brown-haired man a cheerful wink. "Guess not... and who you might be?" The last question was directed to Seishirou and Fuuma.
"This is Fuuma Monou, and I'm Seishirou Sakurazuka."
"Sakurazuka?" she asked. "Just like our Sakura... Sakura Sakurazuka, doesn't that sound nice? And she sounds even nicer! Oh, and I'm Catherine Asei, but call me Casey!" Casey giggled and motioned to the waitress for a drink.
"Yes, very nice," Fuuma agreed.
Seishirou meanwhile had become strangely pensive, and was just starting to speak when the lights dimmed.
The band struck a slow beat. A soft crooning filled the club, the singer hidden in the shadows. Kamui realized this had to be Sakura.
"Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell
Jimmy Rogers on the Victrola up high
Mama's dancin' with baby on her shoulder
The sun is settin' like molasses in the sky."
The figure moved into the light. The dress shone with pure white satin, delicately touched with a subtle pattern of pink petals and fragments of white lace, covering everything from the high neck to the high-heeled shoes except for a discreet slit down one leg, halfway up the thigh. Strands of diamonds glittered in the singer's long black hair, and on the opera gloves that held the microphone. The face was pale, hidden by the shadows.
"The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for"
The voice could have charmed a dragon into orthodontic surgery.
"Black velvet and that little boy's smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style."
The song was sung low, with some notes reaching a deeply sensuous purr. Kamui wished he could see the singer's eyes.
"A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees
Black velvet if you please."
The club was silent, all faces turned towards the stage. Sorata sat on a bar stool with his mouth open.
"Up in Memphis the music's like a heat wave
White lightning, bound to drive you wild
Mama's baby's in the heart of every school girl
'Love me tender' leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true."
The way the singer moved, swaying slightly to the music, was a sin, some sweet, refined and yet primal one. Fuuma was certain of this.
"Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for,
Black velvet and that little boy's smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees
Black velvet if you please."
Then Sakura lifted those shadow-covered eyes, fixing them on one person in the audience. Seishirou held that gaze.
"Every word of every song that he sang was for you."
Fuuma suddenly had the feeling he was listening to a private, very private conversation.
"In a flash he was gone, it happened so soon - what could you do?"
The singer's voice held infinite sadness, as if mourning for countless lives instead of the one American star the song told about.
"Black velvet and that little boy's smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style."
Sakura walked down the steps leading from the stage to the dancefloor, and further on to the sitting area. The singer sang the next lines of the chorus as she approached a specific table.
"A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees
Black velvet if you please."
The white-clad figure reached the goal. A pair of eyes, one gold and the other milky-white, reflected the highlights of the diamonds in Sakura's hair.
"If you please," sounded through the room, loud and clear.
"If you please." This time the last word was drawn out for a good fifteen seconds, every note falling into exactly the right place.
"If you please," Sakura whispered, then bowed and turned off the microphone.
Thunderous applause echoes through the room. The only ones not clapping were Kamui and Sorata; the Ten no Ryu had noticed their enemies and were currently closing in on their table.
"That was great!" Casey trilled. "Sakura, Seishirou, do you know each other?"
The singer opened the delicate pink-painted lips as if to speak, but the Sakurazukamori was faster.
"Katsu, Hiroshi... Fuuma, I don't believe you've met my wife."
The leader of the Chi no Ryu blinked.
Two meters away, Sorata and Kamui stopped dead in their tracks.
"I am sorry I did not tell you about this venue," Sakura said softly.
"It was an - interesting surprise." Seishirou smiled, like a tiger before jumping on his prey. "At first I thought I was seeing a ghost."
~TO BE CONTINUED~
Author's Notes:
"Black Velvet" by Alannah Myles. Casey, Katsu, Hiroshi belong to me.