Wallace Appreciation, Day 3
Prompt: Return
Not what I had originally intended to post todayā¦ but @shihalyfie made a comment about Wallace and Menoa yesterday that I could NOT stop thinking about, so here is a hastily-written & edited fic which I am super rusty at producing in general orz
Title: Tithonus in the Arms of Rosy-Fingered Dawn
Summary: Takes place just before the events of Last Evolution Kizuna. Wallace bonds wiā is seduced by Menoa Bellucci, earning him a one way, all-expenses-paid trip to Neverland.
Length: ~1200 words
Warnings: Kizuna spoilers, vague acts of passion between two consenting adults.
Rating: T (just to be safe)
A/N: I honestly need to rewatch Kizuna and finish the novel, so I might end up revisiting this to make minor word adjustments or larger changes if I find I accidentally contradicted canon :P
"Dr. Bellucci, are you trying to seduce me?" Wallace asked, raising an eyebrow in equal amounts of intrigue and amusement at the older woman sitting across the table from him.
"I'd prefer it if you just called me Menoa," she said. "And what if I were?" Her tone was as casual as if she had just commented on the weather, but her eyes were gleaming, even mirthful, he noted, and fixed steadily on his. "What would you do about it?"
Wallace considered this for a moment. It had been a strange couple of days already: a phone handed to him by the concierge, an appointment made, a morning spent in the name of digimon research with a gorgeous college professor and her stone-faced colleague, followed by an afternoon of casual conversation and a late lunch at the beachfront restaurant that had now nearly taken them into the evening. Menoa Bellucci was like no academic he had ever met: smart, of course, but also young, passionate, wittyāand most of all, interested in him. The two of them had a surprising number of things in common... not to mention, he'd always had a thing for redheads.
"If I'm being honest," he said, keeping his tone light and trying to match the glint in her eyes with one of his own, "I'd let you. Being seduced by a beautiful woman is not something I mind in the slightest."
Menoa took a long draw of the sunset-colored drink in front of her, her lips wrapped around the brightly-colored straw. Wallace's hand tightened unconsciously around his own virgin cocktail, the condensation on the glass already saturating the flimsy cardboard coaster beneath it.
"Your, umā¦ boyfriend. He doesn't mind, though?" he asked.
She laughed at this, a ringing, melodic sound that somehow reminded him of a windchime. "Kyotaro? He's my assistant, nothing more. I'm sure he's locked up in his room already, processing the data we collected on your partners. I wouldn't worry about him."
"Just making sure." He chanced a look down at the beach, where he knew Chocomon and Gummymon were napping peacefully beneath the arching palm trees, still worn out from the morning's interview and subsequent data collection.
"You're sure you're comfortable leaving them out there?" Menoa asked, as if she could tell what he was thinking.
He waved away her concern, grinning as if he wasn't starting to become unnerved by the increasing intensity of her stare. "It's fine. The hotel staff all know me, and the guests never seem to notice things like digimon dozing in beach chairs. They've all seen a dozen stranger things before breakfast. That's the great thing about Florida, no one ever bats an eye."
"I see." She removed the butterfly-shaped tie from her braid and shook out her hair, letting it cascade down her shoulders and back, a firey, flaming red against the navy blue of her swimsuit. In one smooth movement she stood, clasped his hand in hers, and pulled him to his feet.
"You have very pretty hair, Menoa," he said. He knew it sounded childish, but he couldnāt help himselfānot around her, it seemed.
She considered him for a moment. āNot the most profound or original line I've ever heard,ā she said with a smirk. āBut I can see how it would be effective. Iāll bet youāve used it on everyone youāve been interested in since you were eleven.ā
He chuckled, still impressed by her no-nonsense honesty. "Maybe."
***
The edge of the sun was still visible over the horizon, turning the sea to indigo and painting the sky in broad strokes of orange and yellow. Wallace and Menoa walked side-by-side on the beach, his hand hovering near the small of her back, following wherever she might lead. He was oblivious to where she might be taking him, but as the crowds of beachgoers became more and more sparse it became obvious she was looking for someplace a little more private. His heart began to flutter like a butterfly in his chest.
"Aspens," she murmured suddenly.
"Pardon?"
Her head was turned away from him out to sea, the halo of her hair illuminated in brilliant gold. "Sorry. Don't ask me why, but seeing the ocean always makes me miss the mountains. The aspens in particular." She turned, and now he could see her face in profile, her jawline set in a harder line he'd seen at any other point during the day. "Did you know that a stand of aspen trees are considered a single organism? Each tree is the offshoot of a rhiziomatic root structure, essentially a clone of those around it."
"I... guess I didn't know that," he shrugged. "I just thought they were pretty."
"That's why aspen forests all change color together... why they often die together. All of them are the children of that single shared root, linked together underground. They share the exact same strengths, and the exact same weaknesses." She turned to face him then, her tone still serious. "You're sure you don't have any more contact information for human-digimon pairs you've met over the years? Anyone from childhood you've kept in touch with?"
He shook his head, puzzled at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I'm... sorry, I already told you everything I know. You already had the information on Mimi and Daisuke. I don't keep in touch with many people, much less people with digimon."
Her shoulders twitched in a sort of shrug and she gave him an enigmatic half-smile, but she seemed to return to herself after that. "It really is a pity." He could feel her fingers trace up the fabric of his shirt, her arms envelop his shoulders, her hands caress the nape of his neck through his hair as she leaned in ever closer. His eyes were drawn inexorably to her lips, until they eclipsed even the fading light of the sun. She tasted like sea spray, peaches, and vodka, mixed with something odd and sharply metallic.
"Wallace," he heard her whisper close to his ear, "Would you say I'm beautiful?"
"Of course."
"Would you say I'm a goddess?"
"Absolutely."
He felt her lips carve a smile in the hollow of his cheek. "Good." He heard the percussive snap of her fingers, and suddenly everything became blurred by a howl of rushing wind. He hadn't even had time to cry out before his knees hit the sand. The last thing he remembered was what had sounded like the crinkling of a thousand sheets of paper-thin metal, and a child's laugh echoing in his mind, as sharp and thin as a razor cutting through glass.
Menoa brushed a few grains of sand from her arms and readjusted the sarong around her waist. It hadn't been the ideal extraction, but at least it had been amusing in its way, while it lasted. Boys like this one really did all think alike, and at least now there were three more errant lambs saved, getting a new lease on life as members of her flock. She glanced around to make sure the noise hadn't attracted any undue attention, and smiled in spite of herself. Despite the lack of any new leads she had been able to glean from him, she had accomplished everything she had set out to do today. Someone would find his consciousness-robbed body in the morning, at which point she and Kyotaro would already be on their way to Tokyo, Kyotaro none the wiser. And in the meantime, she would make her way back to the hotel, maybe treat herself to a bath or late-night swim.
At least her target had been right about one thing.
That's the great thing about Florida, no one ever bats an eye.
~Fin.
