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Bad Luck Kitty	By : DevilnBlue Category: +. to F > Code Geass Views: 2823 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass and I do not make a profit from writing this fic.

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Hello, I’m Assassin's Kiss and this is my first ever Code Geass story. I always get nervous writing a fanfic for the first time in a new anime section because my readers of my other stories may or may not know this anime and therefore I’m introducing myself to many new readers. I hadn’t expected to write this but then I thought OMFG; it’s Friday the 13^th. (Well at the time it was and I had really wanted to put this up then but for some reason AFF.net wouldn't let me add new stories for a while) So I found myself listening to some superstitious/magical music. Don’t know why, but then came to listen to Frank Sinatra’s ‘Witchcraft’ and bam; I’m itching to write a Code Geass story with a Friday the 13^th kind of theme. If you squint at it then it has that feel with Lulu-chan being a black cat who likes to cause trouble. But anyway, don’t own Code Geass, hope you enjoy, despite OCCness and show your support by reviewing. It’d be appreciated and I really want this to be successful.

Bad Luck Kitty

A few insistent mews and ‘careless’ knocking down of expensive trinkets by a furry body rubbing up against them was all it took for the kiwi-haired witch to stop pretending to look mysterious for non-existent clients and turn away from her opaque, crystal ball. She was bored out of her skull but that didn’t mean she wanted this black fur ball underfoot to stir things up. If it had been a normal cat she’d have shooed it away with her foot but she knew the true intelligence and danger that lay behind those amethyst orbs.

The young woman tucked a vibrant strand of her hair behind her ear before narrowing her amber gaze at the impatient feline. With an inaudible sigh she rose up, her multi-colored peasant skirt rustled softly as she followed her pet; if she could call him that. Pass the rows of archaic books and mystical trinkets, her fingers brushing against vibrantly colored bottles with neatly scrawled labels and mysterious items floating inside. There she hesitated, pausing in front of a beaded entryway behind the cashier’s counter.

Rolo, their only employee, hadn’t clocked in that day because of a flu. Yet she doubted anyone would steal any of the important magical items. Most who wandered in were novices who wanted to buy something on a lark or superstitious people who wanted to buy a lucky charm. But as deserted as it was now through the murky interior and musty smell of aging paper, she counted Edgar, the raven, perched on top of a skeleton display to keep an eye. Him and the small bell that tinkled each time someone entered and exited the store. So with another inaudible sigh she pushed through the colorful beaded door that separated her place of work from her living quarters.

Padded feet hopped on top of a chair, and furry forepaws stretched across the table’s wooden top as the cat stared intently at the old record player that was just barely one step up from a gramophone. There was an expectant and assured air about the feline that made its’ owner boldly flick the black cat’s ear in her irritation despite immediately seeing a flash of fanged teeth.

“Lelouch you could have put the needle on the record player yourself. You have hands… usually,” the witch muttered. But she knew her scolding words fell on deaf ears as she proceeded to gently put the needle close the center of the record to restart it.

Almost immediately the tiny living room was filled with the crackling, humming sound of the record starting up before the smooth voice of Frank Sinatra singing ‘Witchcraft’ started up close on the heels of the brass band and fluttering flute.

//Those fingers in my hair

That sly come hither stare

That strips my conscience bare

It's witchcraft//

It sent a shiver down the cat’s spine that seemed to shake away the bestial qualities from him, except for his black cat ears and tail. Left behind was a slim, aristocratic cat boy with short raven locks and soul scorching amethyst orbs. Thin, mocking lips, were pursed together as the young man poured himself into feeling the music. Slender, manicured fingers started to drum against the Celtic knots of the oval table top while his black tail began to make lazy S curls behind him.

//And I've got no defense for it

The heat is too intense for it

What good would common sense for it do//

He was an old soul indeed and still was reluctant to part from the sweet crooning sounds that started in the 20s and continued to gain strength in the 60s with the Rat Pack. He had repeatedly requested for the kiwi-haired witch to replay the record even when she had recently bought him a Frank Sinatra CD and a CD player. But it wasn’t the same as truly immersing himself into the mellow tunes where being hip and cool was where it was at. Without even thinking he found himself scrapping back his chair and began to sway hypnotically to the music.

//'Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft

And although, I know, it's strictly taboo

When you arouse the need in me

My heart says yes indeed in me

Proceed with what your leading me to//

His witch stood back, almost cautiously, as his slim hips began to sway to the throaty thrumming of the cello and soft clinking of the cymbals. The candles that lit the tiny living room began to throb and grow brighter with the music. Some smaller candles even orbited around him like wax fireflies. They illuminated his slender throat, delicate wrists and milky thighs that were just barely covered by violet thigh high socks and black short shorts. But despite his deceptively slender frame lay a dangerous strength and ferocity that rivaled any jungle cat.

// It's such an ancient pitch

But one I wouldn't switch

Cause it’s witchcraft, that crazy witchcraft//

Lelouch was entranced by the music and he wanted his owner to feel the same way when his dilated pupils zeroed in on the hesitant witch and he offered his hand. “Dance with me C.C.”

She knew it to be more of an order than a request as the humanoid cat took the witch’s trembling hand and began to expertly waltz her around the coffee table and the couch to the instrumental interlude. C.C. watched him mouth the words to the lyrics, her heart thrumming like a hummingbird in her ears.

How was she supposed to tell her cat that she wanted to be released from their contract and die a human’s death? Lelouch had a wicked temper and had a knack for vengeance if he found he had been wronged. So she had to handle this matter delicately, despite their century or two of friendship.

//'Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraft

And although, I know, it's strictly taboo

When you arouse the need in me

My heart says yes indeed in me

Proceed with what your leading me to//

“You’re not enjoying yourself,” Lelouch said blandly even as he dipped her. There was a spark of frustration in his amethyst orbs that had somewhat submerge but was still present. It was the first words he had spoken in nearly a week and one of the few emotions he was willing to display. Sometimes even when he wasn’t brooding about something that irritated him, like missing a sale on his favorite fish, he would go into quiet spells where his genius mind would try to unravel some type of mystery better left alone.

It was one of the things that had been irritating her lately, the silence. At least when Rolo was there the sandy haired brunette would chirp on happily about his school life to fill in the monotony of the day. He even enjoyed grooming the cat and stroking the feline’s already inflated ego by murmuring praises about his dark beauty.

“No, not at all… I… I just… just,” She felt tongue tied even as she instinctively rushed to put out the fire. She had heard rumors from gossiping witches that Lelouch’s last master had been turned into a mouse for displeasing him. That Lelouch had tortured the poor thing for days on end with his mind games in his cat form until the poor little guy expired from a heart attack. C.C. didn’t want to end up like that or worse spend the rest of her life as a dung beetle.

But just as she felt the blood draining from her face in her consternation and smelt the burnt, electric smell of magic bubbling up, she also heard the tinkling of the front door’s bell and someone calling out. “I have a pizza for a Cecilia Clarkson?”

“Yes, that’s what… that’s why I couldn’t enjoy. I… I was worried that the pizza guy hadn’t come yet and you know how I like my pizza,” the kiwi-haired witch nearly babbled out, close to hysteria. She hastily pulled herself away from the cat, making sure not to jostle him too much in the process. Then quickly sought sanctuary in the storefront while Lelouch’s disapproving gaze followed her through the beaded door.

C.C. had though she had escaped the feline but the cat nonchalantly came through the beaded walkway barely a few seconds later. He licked his lips in interest as if he was slowly wearing down an opponent. Nimbly he hopped up onto the cashier’s counter, as he surveyed his territory both alert and outwardly bored.

“That will be $21.59,” a cute, brunette delivery guy said importantly.

He appeared to be the athletic type so that where Lelouch appeared willowy and delicate the pizza guy appeared sinewy but not so much that he was a muscle head. It was a fine balance and the emerald eyes were a bonus. Lelouch purred in approval as he watched the young twenty-something-year-old quickly pass his witch the receipt before sliding the two large pizza boxes from his plastic pizza carrier to her. He then scratched the back of his curly brown head as he waited patiently for the gypsy looking woman with the funky green hair set the pizza to the side and get out the appropriate amount.

“Are you having a party or something? It seems a lot for you and your brother to eat alone,” he said conversationally. He smiled nervously at the handsome, violet-eyed male that seemed to be leering at him with his arms folded across the countertop and his chin resting on top. If he didn’t know any better he could have sworn he saw cat ears in the dim lighting; but that could have been his sleep deprived mind playing tricks on him after studying for college midterms or possibly his costumer had a weird cosplay fetish.

“You can see me?” asked Lelouch in bemusement, his head cocking almost cutely to the side. His eyes nearly glowed with his interest as he realized his feline form was firmly spelled in place to anyone who was not only not magically inclined but had low magical potential. For him to not see a black cat only piqued his interest further from its lazy inspection of what he thought just another boring human.

“Well, yeah, unless you were trying to be invisible? Where you?” he asked jokingly, although he began to shift nervously.

“How fortunate C.C., we might just have found your replacement,” mused Lelouch aloud as he stepped from behind the counter with a cold, calculating smile. Then aloud and with a flourishing bow, “Welcome to the Black Knight Magic Shoppe. Would you like for us to read your fortune?”

The brunette was about to shake his head with a chuckle. He didn’t believe in all that hocus pocus, mumbo jumbo but he had to admit he was slightly amused as the tall male with the crème dress shirt and violet suspenders made his dramatic bow. He was going to say as much, maybe even see if he could exchange cell phone numbers with the raven when several things happened at once.

With a flick of his wrist, Lelouch had magically turned the store’s ‘open’ sign to ‘close’. The shop’s plastic shutters rustled down with a messy clacking sound, stopping anyone from prying inside. They also effectively blocked the main source of light for the shop until the mysterious man magically lit the spine-like candles that had been unseen until now and were strategically placed around the store space. Suzaku involuntarily stumbled back in surprise, noticing for the first time Lelouch’s black cat tail swinging like a pendulum behind him. The money he had received fell from his hands in his fright, some rustling down and others clinking down, when he felt the chair C.C. earlier vacated zoom back from the table and gently bumped against the pizza guy’s leg.

“No, no. I insist Suzaku,” Lelouch purred out sweetly as he read the food server’s name tag.

The witch’s cat sounded secretly pleased to C.C. It was as if her cat had just stumbled onto a new toy or riddle to unravel. And she pitied the poor sap for his bad luck for catching her cat’s interest even as she forced the quaking brunette to take a seat. “It’s better if you don’t struggle,” she murmured sagely into the brunette’s ear.
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Bad Luck Kitty