Teaser: "Does that let me off the hook?" she groaned. "I mean you've got to see- It was completely innocent. I never-"
FFN Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5181551/1/Terminology
Disclaimer: GW = not mine.
Author's Note: I was reading the review for the pilot episode of the new HBO series "Hung" and was disappointed at the lukewarm reception. I guess I won't be watching it unless the critics start saying good things about it. Anyway, the term "happiness consultants" was mentioned and, since I'm still waiting on July prompts, I decided to have my own fun with terminology. Set in the same universe as Nonsensical Nuances but can stand alone.
Terminology
by mistress amethyst une
"My secretary just resigned," sighed Relena, twirling her pasta around her fork with less than her usual enthusiastic flourish. "He was a good one, too."
Heero was hardly surprised at the news. Relena's now former employee didn't seem like the type to stick with a job like that. It was most probably how the man presented himself that clued Heero in. The creature had expertly styled hair in a shade of blonde not found in nature, a face that had definitely undergone some dermatological treatment to gain its glow, and teeth so white they could probably serve as a beacon in the dark. He also had well-manicured nails and, judging by how some of Relena's documents tended to have traces of some sticky pink residue smelling of tea roses, undoubtedly slathered his hands with moisturizer to keep them as soft as a woman's. It was also strange for a secretary to be able to maintain such fierce fashion sense considering what a job like that usually paid. A wardobe featuring a smart suit, pants just tight enough to highlight particular assets, and patent leather shoes so well-polished Heero could see his glare reflected in them would definitely have cost a fortune. The man was the personification of male vanity, metrosexual from head to toe.
"What was his job before you took him in as your secretary?" asked Heero, finally bringing a forkful of chicken to his mouth.
Deep thinking wasn't conducive to a healthy appetite. Beautiful men always set off warning bells within him. True, he considered himself an individual who fell into that category, but he hardly preened like a peacock. Vain men were the sort one had to watch out for. As far as he knew, there were only two positions that suited a man enamored with himself. One of these positions was as a leader of some sort, using charisma to maximum effect. Both Treize Khushrenada and Zechs Merquise fit this profile to some degree. It's hard to keep a beautiful man with intellect down.
And then there were those men who lacked brains, who only had beauty and the insane desire to maintain it for admiration's sake...
"He was a female fulfillment expert," she replied, picking at the basil in her spaghetti.
Those men could sometimes find success as models or actors but that wasn't too common an occurrence. Needing money to maintain themselves, those men were usually found in a position beneath women. Sometimes on their backs but mostly whatever she was comfortable with...
"You have no idea what that is, do you?"
"No. Sounds like it pays well though. He said he was going back to that career. More lucrative, more fun..."
She rolled her eyes. Being dumped by a nobody, even if it was strictly professional, left a bad taste in her mouth.
"You're right about it paying well. He never offered to service you, did he?"
"No. What on earth are you implying?"
"Relena, female fulfillment expert is a polite way of saying man-whore."
A meatball slid off her fork and fell onto her plate, splashing her pristine white blouse with red sauce. She hardly noticed.
"This is not a good time to exercise your sense of humor, Heero. I didn't hire myself an escort."
"That's putting it politely. Tell me what his full name was again?"
"Dickson B. Hardwood."
She paused. He watched with mild amusement as it all sunk in.
"Good lord! I-"
"You hired a male hooker as your secretary. To put it bluntly, the vice foreign minister hired herself a boy toy."
"But I didn't use him! If the press ever finds out- Oh hell..."
"Don't worry," he smirked.
She was adorable when she blew things out of proportion.
"He won't squeal," he assured her, trying to calm her before she exploded into full blown panic. "That profession is known for its secrecy. During the war, OZ tortured quite a few individuals in that business for information. They got nothing. Talking about your clients merits a fate worse than death."
"I wasn't his client!"
"Technically, you were. You just weren't his client as a prostitute. You still purchased his services as a secretary."
"Does that let me off the hook?" she groaned. "I mean you've got to see- It was completely innocent. I never-"
"Relax," he told her. "At the most, the tabloids will just have a comedy piece. Besides, as I said earlier, people in that trade are a secretive bunch. A lot's changed since the pre-colony age of sex scandals. Nothing will get out."
"I've lost my appetite," she declared, pushing her fork aside. "Why couldn't you keep me in the dark if you knew it wasn't going to get me into trouble?"
"And give ignorance free reign? Possibly let you slip up and cluelessly tell someone in the press you hired a female fulfillment expert?"
"Point taken," she sighed, still distraught over what she'd unknowingly done. "How do you know so much anyway?"
"I went undercover as one a few years back," he replied, taking another bite of chicken.
"You what?!"
"I never took on any clients. Strictly for the mission. It was just for cover. I came home and tossed pocketfuls of business cards in the fireplace, remember?"
"And you took this mission without telling me?"
"I was going undercover, Relena. Telling you would defeat the purpose."
She bit her lip. "I should probably be more upset about this but..."
He observed a smile playing upon her lips as a blush crept across her face.
"But?"
He had some idea of what she was going to say. After all, he was her favorite stress toy.
"Did you learn anything applicable while on that mission?"