Abandoned Fic -- Tenth and Final
Sep. 2nd, 2009 12:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lavanya_sixI really liked the idea of this crossover, but I don't have the medical background to pull off what I'd need to make Shinji's cancer realistic.
Kozo Fuyutsuki stared out onto the dark surface of the Geo-Front, the only sources of illumination the gleaming skyscrapers above and the monorail threaded across the ground below. Mankind's last line of defense looked nothing less like a perfect garden, even in the dark. In a short time might all be destroyed.
To his rear, the Commander and Doctor Ritsuko Akagi were holding an unscheduled meeting. Having nothing to contribute (as usual, he noted tiredly) the Vice-Commander instead busied himself with counting the lights on the sunken city above.
Ikari went straight to the point. "Is there a problem with Operation Yashima, Doctor?"
"No, Commander." Doctor Akagi's oddly subdued tone seemed to undercut that statement. "It concerns the Third Child."
Fuyutsuki turned his head. Despite his father's callousness, the issue of Yui's son concerned him.
"Get to the point, Doctor." Ikari adjusted his glasses. "Your duties require you at Mount Futagoyama to oversee the deployment of the positron cannon."
"W-well, sir, it's these scans. When we were treating Shinji for the feedback shock of the 5th Angel's attack on Unit-01 the doctors noticed some irregularities. I ordered additional tests and the results just came in." Ritsuko paused. Kozo turned all the way around to find that the blonde scientist was actually at a loss for words.
Fuyutsuki asked, "What is it? What's wrong with the Third?"
"He has cancer."
Silence.
"Will it interfer with his piloting?" asked Gendo.
"N-no. It shouldn't, so long as it doesn't spread to the brain."
"Is it treatable?"
Ritsuko Akagi shook her head. "No. It's not. It's... the diagnosis is terminal."
"How long?" asked the Vice-Commander, already fearing the answer.
"Eight weeks," replied Dr. Akagi. "Ten on the outside. Without treatment, no more."
<THIS OPENING IS GOOD FOR FUYUTSUKI IN THE BEGINNING BUT LACKS PUNCH AT THE END>
# # # presenting # # #
THE HANDS OF GOD
Chapter 01 – The Man, the Myth
Written by: Lavanya Six
(please don’t sue)
# # # the first installment in a limited series # # #
Erizawa pointed to the spots on the scan. Fuyutsuki noted with a shiver that there were many, many spots among a threading of other foreign tissue. "The tendrils of the tumors have wrapped themselves around most of his major organs like ivy," explained the oncologist. "It hasn't spread to his bones yet, though that probably isn't far off. After that...."
Gendo Ikari's face was passive. "Can you remove it?"
"Some of it, but with this degree of inflitration surgery isn't a solution. There have been a number of advances in cancer treatments over the past few years, a lot of them here at NERV in our biotech department. With the right drugs and some chemo we should be able to extend the patient's lifespan by several months."
"Radiation treatments would negatively affect the Third Child's abliity to synchrnoize with Unit-01," said Commander Ikari. "He's useless to this organization if he can't pilot."
"Sir, even the most radical drug treatment won't buy Shinji more than a few weeks. This cancer is very agressive. The odds of his survival are almost nil."
"You understand we need a second opinion," said Dr. Akagi, trying to make herself useful in the conversation. Fuyutsuki sympathized. He himself often felt useless at NERV, his knowledge outstripped by younger and more imaginative scientists, reducing him to little more than an admistrative paper pusher who filled the hours decipering Ikari's vague, ominous musings.
"They'll tell you the same thing," said Erizawa. "Shinji's life expectancy without radical radiation and drug treatment can be measured in terms of weeks, not months. Surgically removing the cancers simply isn't an option."
"Unless you had a surgeon with the hands of God."
Dr. Erizawa scowled. "Vice-Commander, this is hardly the time for glibness."
Gendo Ikari, however, knew his friend well enough to read his true intentions. "Fuyutsuki?"
The elderly man seemed to be staring intently into the MRI results. In truth, his vision was fixed behind the LCL monitor, on a point in the distant past, on a hellish year that the Vice-Commander seldom let himself reflect on. "There's a man, a doctor, that I think... no, that I _know_ can help."
"Sir," Erizawa gestured to the test results, "if somebody says they can cure this boy then they're either delusional or lying."
"No. No, I think this man can."
Ritsuko Akagi asked, "Who exactly is he?"
"I met him in April of 2001," said the Vice-Commander, catching everyone's attention. Among those who had lived through it, the first year of the twenty-first century was not something brought up while sober. "I didn't know who he was at first, aside from a godsend. I was practicing as a medical doctor at the time to the boating village I was sheltering in. I had no idea what I was doing. I couldn't do much to help. The people there didn't care. They needed someone. I...." He cleared his throat, finding the memories of that time affecting him more than he had thought they would. "He came and saved dozens of lives with nothing more than first aid kit and a pocket knife. He was amazing."
"Vice-Commander," said Dr. Erizawa, speaking carefully as he navigated hostile waters, "I realize this doctor was a ray of light in a dark year but how exactly is he going to help our patient? Surely there are more professional experts we can consult f-"
"He left as quietly as he came," carried on Fuyutsuki. "I didn't find out his real name until years later when I described him to another doctor, a surgeon in Tokyo-2." The Vice-Commander traced a line across his face, from his left temple down to the tip of his right ear. "A patchwork of black and white skin, hair just the same. Wore a black cape. He could do anything with a scalpel."
Erizawa snorted. Commander Ikari and Dr. Akagi had the graces to look offended at the outburst. "Vice-Commander Fuyutsuki," said the oncolgoist, "with all due respect, this is hardly time for urban legends! A boy's life is on the line!"
"He's very real, doctor. And I know how to contact him."
"Perhaps you'll contact the Tooth Fairy while you're at it!"
Gendo Ikari frowned. "WHO, Fuyutsuki?" he demanded. "Give me a name."
The elderly man smiled. "Black Jack."
# # # #
# # # #
Far away, in a lonely house standing vigil in a desolate countryside, a phone began to ring.
Neither of the occupants of inside the house moved to answer the phone. It was the way of things. Life had a routine.
In a study room, a strange man rested in a finely uphoslted chair. Like the rest of the room's furnishings, the chair was an antique. The man who sat in the chair was not quite a relic yet though the toil of the years had began to leave marks on his body. A perminiate wrinkle creased the man's patchwork brow, spreading across the black and white portions of his flesh. The black in his hair was sprinkled with grey and in a few years the man's hair would, for the first time since his childhood, be of one tone. The man found such a development neither amusing nor upsetting. It was merely the way of life.
Such as ignoring his telephone's ringing.
"Aren't you going to answer it?!" demanded the little girl at his side.
The man said nothing. He appeared to be dozing and listening to the falling rain outside, though both he and the girl knew that he wasn't. The phone continued to ring.
"Answer it! Answer it already!"
The ringing of the antique phone ceased as the equally dated answering machine picked up the call. There was the distinct click of a cassette tape snapping to life as a recording started.
"Doctor Hazama," started the caller, "I'm-
The man's lidded eyes snapped open. No one used _that_ name. No one lived who remembered it.
"-not sure if you remember me. My name is Kozo Fuyutsuki. I have a case that requires you expertise. The patient is a fourteen year-old with multiple tumors and maligants cancers infesting his major organs. All the doctors here say he's a lost cause but I know you can help. I've seen what you can do. If you take the case, I'll forward the relevant material whereever you want. Money isn't an issue for me. Whatever you want, you can have. Please, I'm not exxagerating when I say the future of the world depends on this boy.
"Thank you."
The call ended. The answering machine clicked off.
Black Jack stood up from his chair. In the distance lightning bloomed across the sky. The light from it illuminated the dark room, revealing the garish patchwork of skin tones on the man's face and neck. His face was the stuff of nightmares. "Pinoko," he said to the little girl, "pack your things. We have a case."
"Oh my goodness! A case!" The girl smiled. "Where are we going?"
"Tokyo-3," he said, clearing away the wine glass and coaster on the stand next to his chair. "We're going to see an old professor I once knew."
"Is he a friend?"
"Once upon a time," Black Jack replied, "he was, yes."
"Like in a story!"
"It's not a story for children, Pinoko."
"I'm not a child! I'm eighteen!"
"I know," he said, carrying away the glass. "It's not a story for adults, either."
"Huh?"
He exited the study. "Hurry, Pinoko. A patient is waiting."
"Yes, darling!"
=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-
"MURDERER!" screamed Asuka.
"DAMN IT, KAJI! HOLD HER STILL!"
"I'M TRYING!" He tightened his grip on the struggling girl. "ASUKA, STOP!"
"NO!" she screamed, violently wrenching about in the two adults' grip, trying to break free. Snarling at Black Jack, she cried, "HE KILLED HER! HE KILLED MAMA!"
=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-
"I truly am sorry, Mr. Ikari." Black Jack raised the fireman's axe over his head. "You see, there simply isn't time for a general anaesthetic."
"NOOOOO!"
The axe came down.
<BLACK JACK SEWS GENDO'S HAND ONTO HIS OWN!!! USING ONLY ONE HAND!>
"FROM FILE" - For Christmas, Asuka arranges a personal (and free) gift for Shinji: a photograph. Too bad she didn't check it out first.
"What is it?" Misato leaned over, trying to sneak a peek, and nearly tipped over from innerbriation. "What'd she get you?"
Shinji held up a old, yellowed stack of computer paper. There were about fourty pages or so pages bound together with three gleaming staples along its side. The pages themselve were worn and dog-earred, indicating the item had been read repeatedly. Two little tabs were stuck between the pages as bookmarks He read the title slowly, "The Online Compendium of South-East Asia Meta-Biology and Philosophy: Tracking the Brightest Stars of Tomorrow, Today."
Everyone shared a collective "Huh?"
"Check the index," said Asuka. "The red bookmark."
Shinji did. "So?"
"The second article, baka. Read it's title."
"Resucitating the Drive of Women in Modern Japan's Academia - page 12." Shinji looked up. "I don't get it."
Asuka rolled her eyes. "Christ, Third Child. Do I have to spell it out for you? The author! Who's the author of the article?!"
Shinji gave a little gasp.
All around, the partygoers fixed eyes on Shinji. "What is it, Shinji?" "Ikari?" "Shinji, my man?" "Spit it out!"
He didn't keep them waiting long. In a low, quiet voice he read, "Article by Yui Ikari."
"I didn't get you it just for the article, Shinji." She pointed out the second bookmark in the magazine. "I remember how you were saying you didn't have any photos of your mother, how your asshole father burned them all or something, and when I mentioned this to Mina - an old collegue of mine at the Third Branch - who remembered this article. Your mother was like a hero or something to her. See it has a pho-"
"It has a picture of Yui Ikari?!?"
Most everyone turned towards Ritsuko Akagi. The blonde scientist was no longer lazily reclining on Misato's sofa. She was rigidly perched at Kaji's side now. Rei Ayanami, meanwhile, was carefully watching events unfold with baited breath.
"Yeah," explained Asuka. "It's nothing special. Just a 'from file' photo. Mina said it wasn't too great either."
"You haven't seen it," said Ritsuko. "Of course."
The Second Child frowned. "What's your deal, Doctor Akagi? It's just a little p-"
"Hey," said Shinji, "is it just me, or does my Mother kinda of.... look like Rei?"
"Probably a coincidence," suggested Ritsuko, her tone strained. "Rei just has one of those faces, y'know."
"Yes," concurred Rei. "I am mistaken for many anyanmous strangers on the street."
"Really?" Shinji showed the group page twelve. The whole upper-left quarter of the page was taken up by a color photo of Yui Ikari's head and shoulders. The turtleneck she wore was of garish pre-impact fashions. Her facial features and haircut, however, were a deadringer for the albino girl sitting next to Shinji.
"Wow," said Misato. "That Mina woman was right. That's a terrible photo. Her outfit's totally the wrong color for her skin tone. It makes her look really pale, kind of life Re.... OH!"
Kaji lifted a eyebrow at the woman sitting next to him. "Just one of those faces, huh?"
Ritsuko slammed back the rest of her eggnog.
=-=-=-==-=--==--==-=-=--=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Kaji was holding his cellphone camera over the open magazine. There was a little 'click'.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Kaji snapped his cellphone closed. "Oh, Ritsu, I just thought I'd share that photo with a few, uh, *friends* of mine."
Ritsuko reeled around, head in hands, almost tearing out fistfuls of dyed-blonde hair. "This is not happening! This is not happening! This is not happening! This is not happening!"
"Y'know, Shinji," said Kensuke, scratching his chin, "I'd almost say that Doctor Akagi was keeping a secret."
Touji frowned. "Really? What makes you say that?"
"I don't know, just something about the way she's acting."
Ritsuko staggered out of the rooming, muttering "I'm doomed. I'm doomed." under her breath.
"It's a Christmas miracle!" announced Misato, saluting good fortune with another eggnog. "An awesome, freakish, Christmas miracle with overtones of incest! God bless you, mad science!"
Kozo Fuyutsuki stared out onto the dark surface of the Geo-Front, the only sources of illumination the gleaming skyscrapers above and the monorail threaded across the ground below. Mankind's last line of defense looked nothing less like a perfect garden, even in the dark. In a short time might all be destroyed.
To his rear, the Commander and Doctor Ritsuko Akagi were holding an unscheduled meeting. Having nothing to contribute (as usual, he noted tiredly) the Vice-Commander instead busied himself with counting the lights on the sunken city above.
Ikari went straight to the point. "Is there a problem with Operation Yashima, Doctor?"
"No, Commander." Doctor Akagi's oddly subdued tone seemed to undercut that statement. "It concerns the Third Child."
Fuyutsuki turned his head. Despite his father's callousness, the issue of Yui's son concerned him.
"Get to the point, Doctor." Ikari adjusted his glasses. "Your duties require you at Mount Futagoyama to oversee the deployment of the positron cannon."
"W-well, sir, it's these scans. When we were treating Shinji for the feedback shock of the 5th Angel's attack on Unit-01 the doctors noticed some irregularities. I ordered additional tests and the results just came in." Ritsuko paused. Kozo turned all the way around to find that the blonde scientist was actually at a loss for words.
Fuyutsuki asked, "What is it? What's wrong with the Third?"
"He has cancer."
Silence.
"Will it interfer with his piloting?" asked Gendo.
"N-no. It shouldn't, so long as it doesn't spread to the brain."
"Is it treatable?"
Ritsuko Akagi shook her head. "No. It's not. It's... the diagnosis is terminal."
"How long?" asked the Vice-Commander, already fearing the answer.
"Eight weeks," replied Dr. Akagi. "Ten on the outside. Without treatment, no more."
<THIS OPENING IS GOOD FOR FUYUTSUKI IN THE BEGINNING BUT LACKS PUNCH AT THE END>
# # # presenting # # #
THE HANDS OF GOD
Chapter 01 – The Man, the Myth
Written by: Lavanya Six
(please don’t sue)
# # # the first installment in a limited series # # #
Erizawa pointed to the spots on the scan. Fuyutsuki noted with a shiver that there were many, many spots among a threading of other foreign tissue. "The tendrils of the tumors have wrapped themselves around most of his major organs like ivy," explained the oncologist. "It hasn't spread to his bones yet, though that probably isn't far off. After that...."
Gendo Ikari's face was passive. "Can you remove it?"
"Some of it, but with this degree of inflitration surgery isn't a solution. There have been a number of advances in cancer treatments over the past few years, a lot of them here at NERV in our biotech department. With the right drugs and some chemo we should be able to extend the patient's lifespan by several months."
"Radiation treatments would negatively affect the Third Child's abliity to synchrnoize with Unit-01," said Commander Ikari. "He's useless to this organization if he can't pilot."
"Sir, even the most radical drug treatment won't buy Shinji more than a few weeks. This cancer is very agressive. The odds of his survival are almost nil."
"You understand we need a second opinion," said Dr. Akagi, trying to make herself useful in the conversation. Fuyutsuki sympathized. He himself often felt useless at NERV, his knowledge outstripped by younger and more imaginative scientists, reducing him to little more than an admistrative paper pusher who filled the hours decipering Ikari's vague, ominous musings.
"They'll tell you the same thing," said Erizawa. "Shinji's life expectancy without radical radiation and drug treatment can be measured in terms of weeks, not months. Surgically removing the cancers simply isn't an option."
"Unless you had a surgeon with the hands of God."
Dr. Erizawa scowled. "Vice-Commander, this is hardly the time for glibness."
Gendo Ikari, however, knew his friend well enough to read his true intentions. "Fuyutsuki?"
The elderly man seemed to be staring intently into the MRI results. In truth, his vision was fixed behind the LCL monitor, on a point in the distant past, on a hellish year that the Vice-Commander seldom let himself reflect on. "There's a man, a doctor, that I think... no, that I _know_ can help."
"Sir," Erizawa gestured to the test results, "if somebody says they can cure this boy then they're either delusional or lying."
"No. No, I think this man can."
Ritsuko Akagi asked, "Who exactly is he?"
"I met him in April of 2001," said the Vice-Commander, catching everyone's attention. Among those who had lived through it, the first year of the twenty-first century was not something brought up while sober. "I didn't know who he was at first, aside from a godsend. I was practicing as a medical doctor at the time to the boating village I was sheltering in. I had no idea what I was doing. I couldn't do much to help. The people there didn't care. They needed someone. I...." He cleared his throat, finding the memories of that time affecting him more than he had thought they would. "He came and saved dozens of lives with nothing more than first aid kit and a pocket knife. He was amazing."
"Vice-Commander," said Dr. Erizawa, speaking carefully as he navigated hostile waters, "I realize this doctor was a ray of light in a dark year but how exactly is he going to help our patient? Surely there are more professional experts we can consult f-"
"He left as quietly as he came," carried on Fuyutsuki. "I didn't find out his real name until years later when I described him to another doctor, a surgeon in Tokyo-2." The Vice-Commander traced a line across his face, from his left temple down to the tip of his right ear. "A patchwork of black and white skin, hair just the same. Wore a black cape. He could do anything with a scalpel."
Erizawa snorted. Commander Ikari and Dr. Akagi had the graces to look offended at the outburst. "Vice-Commander Fuyutsuki," said the oncolgoist, "with all due respect, this is hardly time for urban legends! A boy's life is on the line!"
"He's very real, doctor. And I know how to contact him."
"Perhaps you'll contact the Tooth Fairy while you're at it!"
Gendo Ikari frowned. "WHO, Fuyutsuki?" he demanded. "Give me a name."
The elderly man smiled. "Black Jack."
# # # #
# # # #
Far away, in a lonely house standing vigil in a desolate countryside, a phone began to ring.
Neither of the occupants of inside the house moved to answer the phone. It was the way of things. Life had a routine.
In a study room, a strange man rested in a finely uphoslted chair. Like the rest of the room's furnishings, the chair was an antique. The man who sat in the chair was not quite a relic yet though the toil of the years had began to leave marks on his body. A perminiate wrinkle creased the man's patchwork brow, spreading across the black and white portions of his flesh. The black in his hair was sprinkled with grey and in a few years the man's hair would, for the first time since his childhood, be of one tone. The man found such a development neither amusing nor upsetting. It was merely the way of life.
Such as ignoring his telephone's ringing.
"Aren't you going to answer it?!" demanded the little girl at his side.
The man said nothing. He appeared to be dozing and listening to the falling rain outside, though both he and the girl knew that he wasn't. The phone continued to ring.
"Answer it! Answer it already!"
The ringing of the antique phone ceased as the equally dated answering machine picked up the call. There was the distinct click of a cassette tape snapping to life as a recording started.
"Doctor Hazama," started the caller, "I'm-
The man's lidded eyes snapped open. No one used _that_ name. No one lived who remembered it.
"-not sure if you remember me. My name is Kozo Fuyutsuki. I have a case that requires you expertise. The patient is a fourteen year-old with multiple tumors and maligants cancers infesting his major organs. All the doctors here say he's a lost cause but I know you can help. I've seen what you can do. If you take the case, I'll forward the relevant material whereever you want. Money isn't an issue for me. Whatever you want, you can have. Please, I'm not exxagerating when I say the future of the world depends on this boy.
"Thank you."
The call ended. The answering machine clicked off.
Black Jack stood up from his chair. In the distance lightning bloomed across the sky. The light from it illuminated the dark room, revealing the garish patchwork of skin tones on the man's face and neck. His face was the stuff of nightmares. "Pinoko," he said to the little girl, "pack your things. We have a case."
"Oh my goodness! A case!" The girl smiled. "Where are we going?"
"Tokyo-3," he said, clearing away the wine glass and coaster on the stand next to his chair. "We're going to see an old professor I once knew."
"Is he a friend?"
"Once upon a time," Black Jack replied, "he was, yes."
"Like in a story!"
"It's not a story for children, Pinoko."
"I'm not a child! I'm eighteen!"
"I know," he said, carrying away the glass. "It's not a story for adults, either."
"Huh?"
He exited the study. "Hurry, Pinoko. A patient is waiting."
"Yes, darling!"
=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-
"MURDERER!" screamed Asuka.
"DAMN IT, KAJI! HOLD HER STILL!"
"I'M TRYING!" He tightened his grip on the struggling girl. "ASUKA, STOP!"
"NO!" she screamed, violently wrenching about in the two adults' grip, trying to break free. Snarling at Black Jack, she cried, "HE KILLED HER! HE KILLED MAMA!"
=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-
"I truly am sorry, Mr. Ikari." Black Jack raised the fireman's axe over his head. "You see, there simply isn't time for a general anaesthetic."
"NOOOOO!"
The axe came down.
<BLACK JACK SEWS GENDO'S HAND ONTO HIS OWN!!! USING ONLY ONE HAND!>
"FROM FILE" - For Christmas, Asuka arranges a personal (and free) gift for Shinji: a photograph. Too bad she didn't check it out first.
"What is it?" Misato leaned over, trying to sneak a peek, and nearly tipped over from innerbriation. "What'd she get you?"
Shinji held up a old, yellowed stack of computer paper. There were about fourty pages or so pages bound together with three gleaming staples along its side. The pages themselve were worn and dog-earred, indicating the item had been read repeatedly. Two little tabs were stuck between the pages as bookmarks He read the title slowly, "The Online Compendium of South-East Asia Meta-Biology and Philosophy: Tracking the Brightest Stars of Tomorrow, Today."
Everyone shared a collective "Huh?"
"Check the index," said Asuka. "The red bookmark."
Shinji did. "So?"
"The second article, baka. Read it's title."
"Resucitating the Drive of Women in Modern Japan's Academia - page 12." Shinji looked up. "I don't get it."
Asuka rolled her eyes. "Christ, Third Child. Do I have to spell it out for you? The author! Who's the author of the article?!"
Shinji gave a little gasp.
All around, the partygoers fixed eyes on Shinji. "What is it, Shinji?" "Ikari?" "Shinji, my man?" "Spit it out!"
He didn't keep them waiting long. In a low, quiet voice he read, "Article by Yui Ikari."
"I didn't get you it just for the article, Shinji." She pointed out the second bookmark in the magazine. "I remember how you were saying you didn't have any photos of your mother, how your asshole father burned them all or something, and when I mentioned this to Mina - an old collegue of mine at the Third Branch - who remembered this article. Your mother was like a hero or something to her. See it has a pho-"
"It has a picture of Yui Ikari?!?"
Most everyone turned towards Ritsuko Akagi. The blonde scientist was no longer lazily reclining on Misato's sofa. She was rigidly perched at Kaji's side now. Rei Ayanami, meanwhile, was carefully watching events unfold with baited breath.
"Yeah," explained Asuka. "It's nothing special. Just a 'from file' photo. Mina said it wasn't too great either."
"You haven't seen it," said Ritsuko. "Of course."
The Second Child frowned. "What's your deal, Doctor Akagi? It's just a little p-"
"Hey," said Shinji, "is it just me, or does my Mother kinda of.... look like Rei?"
"Probably a coincidence," suggested Ritsuko, her tone strained. "Rei just has one of those faces, y'know."
"Yes," concurred Rei. "I am mistaken for many anyanmous strangers on the street."
"Really?" Shinji showed the group page twelve. The whole upper-left quarter of the page was taken up by a color photo of Yui Ikari's head and shoulders. The turtleneck she wore was of garish pre-impact fashions. Her facial features and haircut, however, were a deadringer for the albino girl sitting next to Shinji.
"Wow," said Misato. "That Mina woman was right. That's a terrible photo. Her outfit's totally the wrong color for her skin tone. It makes her look really pale, kind of life Re.... OH!"
Kaji lifted a eyebrow at the woman sitting next to him. "Just one of those faces, huh?"
Ritsuko slammed back the rest of her eggnog.
=-=-=-==-=--==--==-=-=--=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Kaji was holding his cellphone camera over the open magazine. There was a little 'click'.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Kaji snapped his cellphone closed. "Oh, Ritsu, I just thought I'd share that photo with a few, uh, *friends* of mine."
Ritsuko reeled around, head in hands, almost tearing out fistfuls of dyed-blonde hair. "This is not happening! This is not happening! This is not happening! This is not happening!"
"Y'know, Shinji," said Kensuke, scratching his chin, "I'd almost say that Doctor Akagi was keeping a secret."
Touji frowned. "Really? What makes you say that?"
"I don't know, just something about the way she's acting."
Ritsuko staggered out of the rooming, muttering "I'm doomed. I'm doomed." under her breath.
"It's a Christmas miracle!" announced Misato, saluting good fortune with another eggnog. "An awesome, freakish, Christmas miracle with overtones of incest! God bless you, mad science!"
