FicWad

Chapter 9: Flea

Mai slouched into the back room, heading straight for the table and one of the plain wooden chairs that sat by it. She pulled the chair back roughly, ignoring the harsh scraping sound it made against the wooden floor, and flopped herself down into it, crossing her arms on the table and then resting her head down upon them.

For a few moments she sat motionless, her eyes closed, for all the world appearing as if she had fallen straight to sleep. Then, with a sudden movement she raised her head and yawned expansively, raising her arms to shoulder height and forcing them backwards in a languid stretch. She blinked away the sleepy tears before leaning back into the chair, intertwining her fingers behind her head. She let her eyes wander upwards to look at the clock on the wall. 12.34 am. She sighed, shut her eyes again and let her hands take the weight of her head; let her closed eyelids take the weight of her tired mind.

In the next door room she was dimly aware of the sounds of talking, music, laughter but she was accustomed to blocking them out. In this job getting a few minutes to sit down and not be disturbed was a precious thing. It was also a thing that her boss, Joe, didn't really approve of. They'd had arguments about it in the past, much to Joe's surprise. He wasn't someone that people usually argued with, at least, not more than once. In the three months that Mai had been working at the bar, the arguments had been something he'd had to become accustomed to.

A feeling of something brushing against her legs made Mai jump. She looked down underneath the table to where a grey cat was busily gnawing on the narrow stiletto heel of her boot.

'Hey, Flea,' she said as she gently pushed the cat's head away with her other foot.

The animal glanced at her briefly before going straight back to its diversion of chewing on her boot.

Mai sighed. 'You're a brave little critter getting that close to my feet,' she said conversationally, twitching her foot to dislodge the cat once again.

The cat hissed and swung a paw at her foot latching its claws into the laces and snagging them.

Mai frowned and stood up quickly, sending the cat skittering further back under the table.

'You made me get up now,' she chastised, irritably. 'I was fully intending not to move for a good ten minutes.' She moved across the room to another table where the coats, scarves and other personal belongings of the staff had been discarded in a disorderly heap. 'I ought to get Joe down here and turn you in,' she continued quietly as she scrabbled around in her shoulder bag. 'You know he threatened to have you shot next time he found you in here?' she turned back to look at the cat who was peering up at her with large dark eyes from beneath the table. Mai smiled faintly and held up a half eaten packet of cheesy crisps that she had saved from earlier in the evening. 'Lucky I'm a sucker for you moody, loner types,' she said as she made her way back to the table.

She fished out a small handful of the crisps and dropped them onto the floor, watching happily as the cat began crunching on them loudly.

Feeling more awake Mai glanced around her for something to fill the remaining few minutes of her self proclaimed break. Scanning the front covers of the gossip magazines and tabloid newspapers that her colleagues seemed to like so much, she suddenly sat forward as an article header caught her eye.

'New York's Finest!' the cover read, 'The city's most eligible bachelors (and tips on how to snare them!)'

Mai looked around furtively. Happy that there was no one watching, she quickly dragged the magazine across the table and began flicking through the pages. Spotting a blur of a familiar face she stopped turning and spread the pages open flattening them down with the palm of her hand.

Across two glossy pages were shown a variety of wealthy looking businessmen, all in posed publicity style shots. Next to each was a short list of information including their vital statistics and, in large bold type, the amount they were said to be worth. And there, on the right hand page, was just the man she'd been hoping to see.

Mai grinned as she looked at the image of Seto. He was pictured in front of the large, colourful gates of Kaiba Land wearing a crisp white business suit, standing with his arms folded and a stern expression on his face.

'Look at him!' she smiled, holding the magazine up to show to the cat, 'one of New York's finest!'

'Are you talking to yourself again?'

Mai quickly dropped the magazine back onto the table and casually threw her arm across it to hide it from view. She turned to look at man who had addressed her.

Joseph Corelli stood in the doorway with his thick arms folded across his wide chest. He was a man in his early fifties, heavily built and with hardened, fierce looking features. He was the owner of the bar where Mai worked and, as such, he was more than capable of dealing with any trouble makers; and had done so in the past with a frightening efficiency. He had also cultivated a small niche market in after hours card games and gambling and maintained a casual disregard for any of the legal institutions that frowned upon such practice.

For those who didn't know him, he was an intimidating figure, but, when he smiled, as he did now looking at Mai, wrinkles would crease the skin at the side of his eyes, softening his expression into something almost paternal.

'Joe!' Mai exclaimed with a forced laugh. 'How's it going, hon? Are we ready for the game yet?'

Joe raised an eyebrow at his employee, regarding her with a bemused expression. 'Not yet, probably another fifteen minutes or so. Still, you could busy yourself with some restocking if you're bored.'

'Uh huh, yeah, I'll get right on that,' Mai said sarcastically, languidly stretching out her legs and shoving the cat further beneath the table and out of sight as she did so. She yawned loudly to cover the sound of its indignant hiss.

Joe rolled his eyes and moved towards Mai. There had been much speculation, not to mention resentment, among the staff when Mai had begun work at the bar. To their eyes it had seemed that an attractive, if rather brash, woman had simply waltzed into Joe's office one day and demanded a job when there hadn't been any going. To their surprise and disgruntlement she had not only been given a job behind the bar but she'd also been allowed to play in the after hour poker games; something that was strictly forbidden for any other member of staff to do.

If that hadn't been bad enough she also seemed to have Joe wrapped around her little finger, seemingly choosing her own working hours and getting away with murder in the way that she addressed him. Despite his obvious outward devotion to his wife and two daughters, the rest of the staff at the bar had long since concluded that there must be something going on between their boss and this new, brazen woman.

In fact Joe was very fond of Mai but that was where it ended. He liked talking to her and he even liked the way that she teased him - very few people he knew had the confidence to even try. The mere idea of getting romantically involved with Mai Valentine, however, made Joseph Corelli impulsively clasp at his wedding ring, as if the image of his wife could help to fend off the unsettling thought. Joe was sure there was a man out there for Mai, but he'd long since concluded that they'd have to be made of pretty strong stuff to resist the frequent urges to throttle her.

'You're the only one who can get away with talking to me like that you know,' he said irritably. 'I don't know why I don't just fire you and be done with it.' He sat himself down diagonally across from her and reached forward to pull the magazine from under her arm.

Mai could feel herself starting to blush as he skimmed over the article and was almost glad when she felt the tell tale tug on her boot which told her that the cat was chewing on her heel again.

She was looking down at the cat when she became aware of Joe's eyes on her. She met his gaze, realising that he was waiting for a comeback from his previous comment.

'You'd be lost without me,' she managed although her usual sharpness of tone was lost in her distraction.

'So, come on then, which one have you got your eye on?' Joe said after a moment, indicating the article with a smirk. 'Wait,' he continued just as Mai was about to dismiss the whole thing as mindless trash, 'let me guess...' he looked over the images studiously before suddenly jabbing a finger down onto the page. 'This guy!'

Curiosity getting the better of her, Mai shifted slightly so that she could see past his hand. He was pointing at a picture of a wrinkly, lecherous-looking old man.

'Eew!' Mai exclaimed in horror, 'no way! He must be, what, ninety?'

'One hundred and two actually. It says here that he's had seven wives and that he's always on the look out for number eight.' Joe looked up at her expectantly.

'That's disgusting! Why would you think I'd go for him?'

'He's the richest, and the oldest, and the most likely to die of a heart attack any day now and give up all his worldly goods to the right woman.'

Mai tutted irritably. 'Contrary to popular perception, I'm not a completely ruthless, money-hungry gold digger y'know.'

Joe laughed, a deep chesty laugh that spoke of too many cigarettes and late nights. 'Who were you thinking of then?'

Mai shrugged nonchalantly casting a deliberately casual eye over the pictures as if seeing them for the fist time. 'I don't know,' she said dismissively, 'you know, this guy looks slightly more appealing.'

Joe raised an eyebrow and leant forward to read the text next to the picture that Mai had indicated. 'Huh,' he said after a moment, 'I think you'd have a better chance with old Oswald. It says here that no woman has successfully 'snared' Seto Kaiba although many have tried. They don't have any hints under the 'Wooing to Win' header, they just wish people good luck and ask them to write in if they have any suggestions,' Joe continued reading. 'Oswald on the other hand has been known to marry someone purely on the basis of their bra size,' Joe grinned appreciatively. 'Now there's a man after my own heart.'

Suddenly, Joe's good humour faltered, his expression hardened and a scowl furrowed his brow. He pushed quickly backwards in his chair so that, as he stood up, it was sent clattering to the floor behind him.

'What is that thing doing here?' he thundered pointing an accusing finger down at the floor.

Mai winced slightly and bent over to look under the table where the cat was stood, poised as if ready to attack, its back arched and its ears flat to its head.

'Oh,' she said after a moment, 'will you look at that. I didn't see him there,' she met Joe's furious expression with her own semblance of innocence.

Joe glared at her for a moment and then grabbed the magazine off the table and rolling it deftly into a tight tube before crouching down and swiping wildly at the cat who backed away, hissing savagely.

'I will not have that fleabag in - my - establishment!' he growled, punctuating the last three words with jabbing motions from the magazine.

Mai pushed her chair back and crouched down to join Joe under the table. The cat, seeing an ally, ran towards her and hid behind her legs.

'Aww, old Flea isn't hurting anyone, Joe,' she said scooping the struggling animal up in her arms. She stood up, 'can't you just leave him be?'

As Joe too got his feet Mai blasted him with her most winning smile and, for effect, waved the cat's paw cutely at her scowling boss.

'Look at him,' she said in a cooing voice, as if she were holding a baby rather than a rather feral looking cat, 'he's soooo cute!'

The cat, clearly not understanding the part it had to play in this scene, chose that moment to start up a low growl that emanated from the back of its throat. It twisted itself around in Mai's arms in a sudden frenzy of claws and teeth and Mai was forced to drop it awkwardly onto the floor with a quick cry of pain as its claws left three bright red marks across her arm.
She winced slightly as she watched the speedily retreating animal and then looked back up at Joe who was giving her a hard stare.

'Okay, so maybe 'cute' isn't exactly - '

'Get rid of it Mai,' Joe said coldly. 'I mean it. You get rid of it tonight or I will.'

'But Joe,' Mai's voice had taken on an almost plaintive quality, 'what am I supposed to do with him, huh?'

Joe raised his thick fingers to his temple in an attempt to ward off the rising feeling of exasperation at her continued arguing. Why did she always have to be so damn difficult?! He took a deep breath and calmly put the rolled up magazine back on the table before walking towards the door.

'Figure something out, Mai,' he growled dangerously. 'You like him so much, take him home.'

'But it's against the terms of my lease to have animals in my - '

'Give him to someone else then,' Joe snapped, 'a friend or someone.'

'But I don't -' she stopped. The magazine was beginning to slowly unfurl, uncovering a familiar face. She looked back up at Joe who was at the door and looking at her impatiently, waiting for her next excuse. She smiled at him. 'Okay Joe, I'll sort it.'

He opened his mouth to shout at her and then closed it again as her words filtered through to his mind. He looked at her suspiciously. 'Really?' he asked in surprise; arguments with Mai were rarely this easy.

'Of course,' Mai smiled at him contritely, 'I know how strongly you feel about this and you've been more than reasonable. I'll sort it out tonight, boss.'

'Right, well, make sure you do,' he said, nodding curtly before striding away, suddenly feeling an unaccustomed spring in his step.

Mai smiled to herself. She knew that gifting her boss this victory would stand her in good stead for the next time she wanted things her way.

'Let him think he's got one over on me,' she said aloud, glancing over at the cat who was busily grooming itself in the corner, completely oblivious to the drama it had caused. 'All men are the same, Flea. Sometimes it's good to let them think they're in control,' she eased herself back into her chair and smoothed down the picture of Seto. 'Other times, it's good to remind them who's really calling all the shots.'