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Illustration Credit: wolfwithatophatt on DeviantArt

Chapter 21 Songs:

"You're Not Me" by Marty Bags, part of the Yu-Gi-Oh! album

"The Summons" by David Peacock, Graham Maule & John L. Bell

Disclaimer: I don't own the song lyrics. I asked for permission to reprint them and got denied in very sterile, professional language. Therefore, lyrics are excluded from the text and simply replaced by the song title in square [ ] brackets. However, you can easily find these songs and their lyrics in other places around the web, though I've seen some pretty awful incorrect lyrics for "You're Not Me" in a few instances.

Grace author is unknown. Public domain assumed.

Chapter 21: Silver

The limo pulled up to a building with heavy wooden beams and Joan stepped out with her entourage. A woman with silver hair in a modest black dress who made no attempt to hide the deepening wrinkles on her face stood just outside the door with her arms crossed. "I see you brought . . . company," she said as soon as Joan was within earshot.

"Hi Mom!" Joan ignored the comment and stepped in for a hug. Her mother reciprocated with a tired sigh.

"Hi, uh . . ." Mokuba paused, not knowing what to call her.

"Gertrude Saunders, and that's Mrs. Saunders to you." Gertrude proffered her hand and Mokuba shook it. "You're Seto, I presume?"

"I'm Seto Kaiba." Seto slid in swiftly and shoved his hand into Gertrude's. "He's my younger brother."

"How silly of me. Your brother was too polite," Gertrude replied as she shook Seto's hand.

Seto raised an eyebrow but chose not to test her patience. Besides, his mind still ruminated on the fact that Joan had apparently kept her maiden name.

Gertrude peered past Seto at the three people in black suits. "Who are your other friends?"

"Bodyguards," Joan replied.

Gertrude's mouth drew into a tight ring. "Oh."

"Shall we go inside?" Joan suggested.

"Yes, I suppose we shall," Gertrude said.

They passed through a set of double doors and admired two rows of giant metal brewing vats before turning right into a restaurant section with a retro vibe. The bodyguards took their own table while the Kaiba brothers, Joan, and her mother settled into a corner booth with one long, curved seat.

A towering bald man in a black apron approached the table. A corner of a tattoo on his bicep peeked from under one of his sleeves. Unlike the first time Mokuba had seen him, "Michelle" was completely clean-shaven. Despite the baldness, he didn't look a day over thirty. "Hi, my name is Michael and I'll be your server today. Can I get you started with some drinks?"

Joan laughed and leaned over Seto to kiss Michael. Seto tolerated the action, focusing on Joan's lithe body instead of the hairless ape she had chosen as a life partner. Thankfully Joan kept the kiss brief.

"Hello, dear." Gertrude stood and hugged Michael. "Won't you join us?"

"Sorry Trudy, I'm on my shift," Michael said a little too happily.

Gertrude's hands lingered on Michael's bulging forearms. "Oh bless your heart. Don't be a stranger now." She sat down and ordered water. Joan and the Kaibas followed suit.

"Are you sure you don't want a beer?" Michael looked pointedly at the Kaibas.

"You know what? Let's do the sampler," Joan said.

"Coming right up." Michael turned and walked off.

"You didn't tell me your husband was a wage monkey," Seto said to Joan.

"Is that a problem?" Joan asked.

Seto fell silent as his mind tied itself in knots trying to figure out what her husband had that he didn't have.

"Well," Gertrude huffed, "I didn't realize I'd be dining with prostitutes and tax collectors at the same time."

"We're game developers, not tax collectors," Mokuba said.

"Even worse! Video games teach children to idolize a screen when they should be focused on the Lord." Gertrude turned to her daughter expectantly. "And you . . . I raised you better than this."

Joan shrugged. "At least you raised a smart whore."

"I rebuke that statement in Jesus' name. I don't know where you got your smart mouth, but it wasn't from me." Gertrude crossed her arms and leaned back with a scowl.

Seto mimicked Gertrude's posture but kept his facial features placid. "You didn't tell me your mother had an imaginary friend."

"I know," Joan grinned, "I wanted that to be a surprise."

Silence congealed on the table until Michael showed up and swiped it with a rag. "I can tell you're going to need these." He set down a bowl of pretzels and three wooden paddles each containing four small glasses of beer. He rattled off the name of each one and handed Gertrude her water. "Can I take your order now?"

"Why," Gertrude's lips trembled as she looked up at Michael, "why didn't you guard her heart?"

"I'm sorry," Michael said, "we don't serve that here. Could I interest you in the Reuben?"

Gertrude pursed her lips. "For now, but you and I need to have a talk later, young man."

"Sorry Trudy, I already have plans after work. Now what would the rest of you like?" Michael took sandwich orders from the others and left them again. Seto grabbed a beer and took a sip while Mokuba stared uncomfortably at Gertrude.

Gertrude pressed fingers to her forehead. "Has Michael been backsliding too?"

Joan took a long draft of beer. "It's up to him how much he wants to tell you."

Mokuba followed Joan's lead, hoping the alcohol would make this experience more tolerable.

"Can you at least tell me how long this has been going on?" Gertrude pressed.

"Mom," Joan's voice cracked, "I stopped being your perfect little girl my second semester in college."

Gertrude reached across the table and squeezed Joan's hand. "How?"

"You remember that guy from calculus I fell in love with? Tímo." Pain reverberated through Joan's free hand. She used it to drain her beer before sticking it under the table. Seto held it, smothering the phantom sensation.

Gertrude's eyes glistened with moisture. "I remember those were dark times for you, and it hurt me to see you that way, but you never told me what he did to you."

"Nothing," Joan said.

"Nothing?" Gertrude echoed.

"And that was the entire problem. He was asexual."

"Asexual?"

"He didn't experience sexual attraction for anybody. Not me, not . . . anybody." Joan retracted her hand from her mother and tackled another beer.

"That sounds like a blessing. He could go into the priesthood."

"No." Joan sighed. "Just no. I couldn't even get him to join me at Campus Crusade for Christ meetings, let alone mass. Tímo wasn't celibate for any faith-based reason. He simply didn't have the usual chemicals floating around in his brain."

"But you struggled with lust?"

Joan dismissed the worn-out phrase. "Father John said something I'll never forget. He said that sexuality is a gift to express your love for someone, never to be used for manipulation. I wanted that more than anything with Tímo. I love him. I still do. At the time though, I thought he had to be my one and only. I pushed too hard for physical intimacy, and that drove him away from me."

"If you really loved him that much, why didn't you pray and wait for him?"

"Love, not loved," Joan corrected. "Besides, I thought you wanted grandchildren, and that doesn't happen without sex. Tímo is not going to change his mind about being asexual any more than I will change mine about loving him. We both got slapped by the wrong set of hormones in the wrong place at the wrong time. Tímo wanted me to move on, to be happy with someone else, so I had what most people would call a rebound relationship."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Didn't your father and I meet him once? At the Blooming Planet Festival?"

"Yes. He was a good man, but I never loved him. I channeled my feelings for Tímo into what I did with that man, and I knew it was a lie, and it tore me apart inside, so I told him. I told him that I love Tímo, and strangely he was OK with that. I wasn't manipulating him, so I slept with him again, and again, and I searched my heart. I slept with him a few times even after breaking up with him, but it was merely fooling around, not love, and we both knew it."

"But physical intimacy is supposed to be sacred," Gertrude reminded Joan.

"It can be sometimes, but it doesn't have to be. Problems arise when people go into it with too many expectations. Look, I listened to people testify at Campus Crusade for Christ meetings. One girl spoke about all the guilt she felt over all the sex she had in high school before she got saved. I searched my heart, but the guilt wasn't there. It vanished the moment I started being honest with the men in my life."

"Honest? But you're deceiving yourself," Gertrude said. "The real you hungers and thirsts for Christ's light."

Joan finished the last of her beer and noticed that the Kaiba brothers had already done the same. A pleasant buzz permeated her head. She slipped her free hand under the table and found Mokuba's. "If, and that's if, God is real, He put me through that suffering for a reason. He's slow to anger, rich in kindness, and I highly doubt He put me through that just to keep me on my knees for the rest of my life. Otherwise He would have said something by now."

Gertrude felt her wits' end nearing. "Do you remember when you joined the church choir? You said that you felt God's love through the music. I think you need to come back to church and sing with us."

Joan had tried that already, more times than she could count. It helped in the moment, but Joan knew that had been a product of her imagination, and the human imagination had conjured countless mystical beings since the days of cave paintings. She still loved the old songs, but they had a different meaning to her now. [The Summons] God was in the people around her, not looking down on everyone from Heaven. Joan prayed that these men sitting with her here and now wouldn't leave her high and dry when she needed them the most, even if it meant risking their reputations.

A new song popped into Joan's mind, one she'd heard on the loading screen for Monsters of the Duel while playing with Marc. She'd loved the song so much that she'd downloaded it on her train ride home and listened to it several times and even sang it in the shower. She started softly on the chorus. [You're not Me]

Mokuba echoed the line before he could think too hard about it. He'd hand-picked this song for Monsters of the Duel, and it had been one of the few decisions Seto had signed off on immediately.

Fuck it, Seto thought. One sampler was hardly enough to get him drunk, but the number of empty glasses on the table could deceive anyone. Besides, he couldn't let Mokuba and Joan make fools of themselves alone. He joined in the song.

The three of them finished the chorus together. Joan paused for a split second but jumped back in when the Kaibas kept going. They got through two verses together before they paused and looked over to see Michael clapping. The bodyguards applauded too. Tingles rippled through Joan's entire body. She knew this feeling well, and Michael's presence amplified it to a scale she never thought possible. They'd fought a beast together – not a physical beast, but the way the Kaiba brothers had backed her up in front of her mother meant that she could trust them, rely on them for anything. Nothing would walk over them. Nothing could stand in their way. They had seized the day, but that was another song for another time and Joan doubted the Kaibas knew it anyway. She slid her arms around the brothers, pulling them in closer to her and grinning like a maniac.

Gertrude's jaw dangled while Michael disappeared into the kitchen and returned with their food. He laid their plates in front of them. Gertrude's eyes shot up to Michael. "Don't tell me you condone this."

"Trudy, I'm not going to tell you anything you're not ready to accept." Michael collected the empty beer glasses. "Refills on anything?"

"I'm good," Joan said.

"All right, enjoy!" Michael walked off.

Gertrude bowed her head and made the sign of the cross. "We thank You Lord, for all you give; the food we eat, the lives we live; and to our loved ones far away, please send your blessings, Lord we pray. And help us all to live our days with thankful hearts and loving ways. Amen."

They ate wordlessly for a while before Joan extended an olive branch. "Mom, I'm sorry. You did a lot for me growing up. I learned a lot from Church, but then I learned so much more. It's not your fault I turned out this way, but I'm not ashamed of it."

Gertrude sighed. "I suppose we all lose our way sometimes. Just remember that Jesus always goes looking for His lost sheep. Maybe this is all part of the Lord's plan."

"Maybe," Joan conceded. She always knew she might be wrong, but until she heard it from God himself, she wasn't going to trust a few old men in embroidered vestments interpreting a book written in a time when wives were counted alongside cattle.

"So . . ." Gertrude looked from Mokuba to Seto. "Tell me more about what you do."

Seto couldn't remember the last time he'd encountered someone so clueless to Kaiba Corporation's endeavors. "Have you been living under a rock?"

"Christ is my rock," Gertrude replied.

"So I gathered. Apparently your imaginary friend has kept you oblivious to the fact that my company has single-handedly pioneered practically all advances in cutting-edge technology over the past decade."

"You watch your tongue!" Gertrude snapped. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"He was adopted," Joan supplied.

Seto looked away.

Gertrude's mouth constricted. "Oh."

"Maybe we should talk about something else. Did you know that Jessica got engaged?" Joan and her mom went on like that, talking about people Seto and Mokuba had no prior knowledge of. For the first time in their lives, the Kaiba brothers experienced the joys of serving as arm candy.

When they finally got back to the limo, Seto said, "I'm glad that's over. I was getting bored."

"You're the one who wanted to come along," Joan reminded him.

"I liked it," Mokuba said. "It was tense at first, but then it got all sweet. Your mom really loves you. I've never experienced that."

Joan inched closer to Mokuba. She soaked in his deep violet pools and then brought her lips to his. She hesitated two millimeters away before closing the gap, giving it her all. This one wasn't for practice, and somehow Mokuba knew it instantly. Visions flashed through his mind's eye so fast that he couldn't tell where or when they were supposed to be. A strange feeling crept through his entire being. Could this be what all the poets meant when they spoke of love? Could they truly have a future together? Mokuba slapped the idea away, but the feeling persisted even after she broke contact.

"What . . . what was that for?" Mokuba asked.

"For singing with me. It meant the world to me," Joan said.

"Where's mine?" Seto demanded.

He expected a biting remark about how Mokuba had been the first to join in the song, but she merely turned and repeated the process. Confusion peppered his brain from start to finish.

Seto leaned back against the leather seat, collecting his thoughts. His imagination had to be playing tricks on him, showing him what he wanted to see, but after the way Mokuba had reacted, uncertainty nagged him. "Whore, I understand what that was for, but what was that?"

Joan smirked cryptically. "Don't worry. You'll get used to it." She'd been through this enough times to know they needed to accept it too before she could spill the beans.