A Queen's Request

4. Request: Whiskey

Summary:

Historia persists, Levi resists, and Hange gets the Captain spot on. Again.

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ARC 1: REQUEST

'An act of asking politely, formally or officially for something.'

CHAPTER 4: Whiskey

Hange collared Levi at breakfast the next morning.

As soon as he caught sight of The Commander heading in his direction across the dining hall, Levi groaned.

He pretended not to have noticed her as he continued preparing his tea. She merely hovered awkwardly next to him, before blocking his path as he moved to find a seat. He could feel the curious glances of Mikasa, Jean and the other Special Ops Squad boring into the back of his head the whole time as they sat at their breakfast table.

"Shit, Four Eyes. At least give me chance to fucking wake up," He hissed as he tried to move past her.

"C'mon Levi; don't pretend like you haven't already been awake for hours," Hange grinned at him manically. "I thought we could enjoy breakfast in the meeting room today? In private?" She added the last part pointedly.

Levi glanced at his squad, who had quite evidently been eavesdropping. They quickly become interested in their breakfasts as his gaze fell on them. Great, he could guess the gossip this would give them. The Commander and The Captain now enjoying private breakfasts together. Sometimes he wondered if he should be giving them more work to do.

Hange was still hovering.

"Tsk. Very well," he agreed in defeat. Might as well get this over with while he had a fresh cup of tea in his hand.

Once they were sat in the meeting room, Hange wasted no time getting straight to the point. The woman was ruthless when she wanted to be.

"So, have you thought more on Historia's request?"

"The answer is still no." Levi said shortly.

Hange adjusted her glasses. "I see." She looked thoughtful. "I never realised she felt that way about you, you know? Perhaps all the help you gave her with opening the Orphanage made her-"

Levi raised his hand in annoyance to silence the Commander. "It's not like that, Hange." He could feel his patience fraying already.

"Oh?" Hange's good eye fixed him curiously.

Levi lent his elbows on the table beside which they were both sat. He ran a hand through his hair, before letting out a sigh. "She thinks my genes are somehow superior, and will give her child a better chance of survival in life." He glared at her. "Guess where she got that idea?"

Hange waved his question off. "Well the girl does have a point, really, Levi."

Levi clenched his jaw. He really needed to do his best to stay calm. He tried to figure out how to put the right words together, to make Hange best understand.

"Hange," he began through gritted teeth, "do you think genes were what saved me, when I was lying emaciated in a brothel bedroom, watching my mother waste away in front of my eyes?"

When Hange offered no reply, he continued. "I'll tell you. Did they fuck. If Kenny hadn't decided to come strolling in at the right moment, we wouldn't be having this conversation now. It doesn't matter if you've got the best genes in the world, or the worst genes in the world. If you're descended from Queens, or descended from whores. If life decides to fuck you, you're getting fucked."