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texchanThis is a little "Bish Closet Mission" I wrote as a late b-day gift for my dear friend, Kitt. I'm posting it here with her permission. As always, this is an intentional self-insert fic (and Kitt appears in here, too, since it's for her b-day), but I don't think the self-insert part is overwhelming. Aya and Yohji, of course, folks already know as being part of Weiss Kreuz. Wilhelm and Tristyn are my original characters; they are both from my in-progress novel.
Anyhow, I hope this is a fun read -- if anyone decides to read it, that is. *nervous laugh*
Meeting of the Minds
(a bish closet adventure by tex-chan)
“Let me get this straight, Fangirl,” Aya said, spearing Tex-chan with an irritated glare -- the one where he barely narrowed his eyes and, somehow, made it seem as if she had just done something unthinkable and absolutely unforgivable. “You want me to do a favor for you?”
Tex frowned and shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she tore her gaze away from Aya’s angry glare and dropped it to her feet. Maybe, if she stared at the floor long enough, it would open up and swallow her, ending what was proving to be an uncomfortable situation -- and one of the biggest mistakes she had made in a long time. It was no good. The floor remained stubbornly solid. Tex sighed and looked up, avoiding Aya’s glower by looking around the Bish Closet, instead.
For once, there wasn’t total chaos in this space. Tex could remember coming in here to find dirty clothes piled up all over the floor, the television and every other flat surface coated with dust, overflowing ashtrays sitting around the room, and empty beer bottles, dirty dishes, and used food wrappers littering the counters. In contrast to those memories, the Bish Closet facing her now was so close to being pulled together that Tex might even go out on a limb and call it “clean”. There were a few empty beer bottles on the kitchen counter and table, two soda cans on the coffee table, and a half-full ashtray in amongst the bottles on the kitchen table. There were a few bits of paper -- crumpled paper towels and shredded napkins -- littering the floor, but that was because Fae had followed Tex into the Bish Closet and immediately raided the trash can. She sat in the middle of the paper mess, thumping her tail against the floor, eating a napkin, and looking every bit like the happy pin-head she was.
The TV was on, as always, although no one appeared to be watching it. A rerun of American Justice droned on in the background while Yohji and Wilhelm played Scrabble at the kitchen table. It was a special version of the game, made up entirely of curse words. At first, Wilhelm had been at a serious disadvantage. He did come from a different world, after all. But, he seemed to be catching on quickly; his vocabulary had grown exponentially -- in unexpected ways. Tex couldn’t help smiling as she watched Wilhelm and Yohji play. They were a study in contrasts. Yohji was casual and relaxed, as always. He leaned back in his chair, tipping it up on two legs and resting his feet on the kitchen table, and he had a crooked half-grin on his face. He looked comfortable and so at home, it was almost as if he had been melded to the chair to create some new kind of hybrid creature. But, then, Yohji almost always seemed at home, no matter where he was or what he was doing. Tex had always thought it was part of his self-confident charm. Almost nothing could throw him off. Wilhelm, on the other hand, leaned forward, carefully studying the game board in front of him. He looked from it to his pile of tiles, and it was clear he was wracking his brain to figure out his next move. He had pulled his long, white-blond hair back into a ponytail, except for a few strands that had come loose to fall into his eyes. Wilhelm made an irritated noise and tucked them behind his ear without ever breaking his concentration on the board in front of him, although he took a moment to reach down and scratch Bog’s head. The big dog lounged under the table, watching Fae devour her pile of trash “treasure”.
Tristyn sat nearby. He crouched against a wall with his legs pulled up to his chest, and a book called How to Master the Magic Within balanced across his bent knees. He looked up and smiled at Tex over the book’s top edge as he flipped a page.
Tex had to admit she had been surprised when Wilhelm and Tristyn had shown up in the Bish Closet. Everyone had been surprised, really. Aya and Yohji had done their best to hide it, but she knew it had given both of them a bit of a shock -- they come home late one night after a tough mission to find two strangers and a big, hairy dog lounging on the Bish Closet sofa, as if they had been there from the beginning. Tex hadn’t been around the Closet much in those first days, but the grumbles and loud thumps -- not to mention the frequent sound of breaking glass -- had told her things were far from peaceful. The sounds of discontent had subsided, and she thought things had resolved into a livable situation for everyone involved. If the bishie boys were unhappy, at least they weren’t trying to kill each other -- although Aya’s angry glare seemed to indicate things might still be a little rocky.
“You know,” Tristyn offered, as if reading Tex’s mind, “I can help you with that whole floor swallowing you up thing. I’ve been practicing.” He smiled and flipped his book around, so that Tex could see the chapter title: Travel Portals -- Your Best Friend.
“You will not practice magic on Fangirl,” Aya snapped, turning around to glare at Tristyn. “That’s one of the rules, in case you forgot.” He turned back toward Tex, shaking his head as he explained, “Yesterday, he sent our remote control … somewhere. We still haven’t found it. There’s no telling where you would end up.” He paused for a fraction of a second before adding, “Not that I care, or anything.”
“Oh, yeah -- You’re smooth,” Yohji sneered, giving Aya a smug smirk.
Aya opened his mouth to reply, but Wilhelm cut him off short with an exclaimed, “That’s it! Fucktard for the win!” He looked very pleased with himself as he slammed his last Scrabble tile down onto the board.
“Hey!” Aya yelled, “What have I told you about using bad language in front of Fangirl?”
“Do it a lot?” Yohji teased.
He crossed the room and climbed over the back of the sofa to slide down onto the cushion next to Aya, shoving the younger man out of the way as he did so. Aya shoved back, but ignored him in favor of continuing to direct an icy stare in Wilhelm’s direction.
“Yeah, yeah,” Wilhelm said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, “It’s one of the rules.” He waited until Aya turned around before muttering, “You’re not the boss of me.”
Tex covered her mouth and coughed to hide her laughter. It wasn’t funny; things had to be pretty bad, if Aya had resorted to pulling out The Rules. At the same time, Wilhelm sounded so much like Yohji that she couldn’t help giggling -- just a little. Luckily, Aya didn’t hear her. She was pretty sure he would make her regret it for the foreseeable future.
“The point is, Fangirl … I don’t think I want to do a favor for you. So -- no,” he said, shrugging.
“He’s a little upset,” Yohji said. “Don’t worry. We’ll do it.” He winked at Tex, ignoring the glare Aya shot in his direction. “Things have been a bit different around here, that’s all. You know -- the new additions. And, well, you’re not around much any more. I think Aya is jealous. Plus, the new puppy. She’s eaten three pairs of boots. And, your boy over there,” he paused to point over his shoulder with his thumb, indicating Tristyn, “Keeps sending stuff … well, away. Yesterday, it was the remote. Two days ago, it was my favorite stack of girlie mags and a case of beer. And, before that, it was Aya’s orange sweater. Although, I have to admit I won’t miss that thing all that much.”
“I’m not jealous,” Aya fumed, “And I love that sweater. It’s … comfortable.”
“It should be,” Yohji laughed, “It’s so ugly it hurts. So? What is this favor you need?”
“It’s not for me, exactly,” Tex replied. “It’s for my friend, Kitt. She had a birthday recently, and, well … I would like to give her something a bit special.”
*****************************
“Are you sure about this?” Yohji asked.
“Sure about what?” Aya asked, in return.
Aya’s question seemed loaded with implications, even though he had spoken in a matter-of-fact, offhand manner -- as if he couldn’t possibly have the foggiest idea what Yohji meant. Yohji sighed and, for a fraction of a second, wondered where he should start in explaining things to Aya. There was the fact that they were standing at Kitt’s door, in her front yard -- in the dark. As far as Yohji knew, Fangirl was the only person around who would greet the unannounced nighttime arrival of two assassins with squeals of joy. Most other people he had met -- however briefly -- tended to react with a lot less enthusiasm. And, then there was the little matter of the “gift” they had brought to Kitt on Fangirl’s behalf. Yohji sighed as he looked down at the figure lying at his feet -- a man, who was tied up and wrapped, head-to-toe, in Christmas lights. Yohji decided he would start there. Being an assassin, he felt it was always best to start with the bodies -- even when they were still breathing.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Yohji replied, careful to put a sharp, sarcastic-sounding tone in his voice, “Maybe … this!?”
He nudged the tied-up man in the ribs with the toe of his boot, frowning when the guy let out a pathetic noise that seemed like something between a whimper and a moan. Even as a favor to Fangirl, Yohji had to admit this whole escapade seemed a bit beneath them. They were Hunters of the Night, after all. Destroyers of Dark Beasts. Not some kind of universal hall monitors who should be sent out to bitch-slap every irritating person who crossed Fangirl’s path. No matter how much said persons deserved it, Yohji thought, giving the tied-up man another sharp nudge in the ribs. He couldn’t help smiling when the guy whimpered again. This guy deserved pay-back, no doubt about it.
“I don’t see the problem,” Aya replied, his voice floating out of the darkness somewhere to Yohji’s right -- muffled and seeming to come from around knee level. “This guy matches the picture Fangirl gave us. He’s Kitt’s supervisor, no doubt. And, she told us all the trouble he was causing with this “management meeting” nonsense. We even found him at the meeting, just as Fangirl said we would. We’re just doing what she asked us to do.”
Yohji could hear the sound of Aya shuffling through the bushes that grew near Kitt’s door. He grunted softly with the effort, cursing under his breath as he pushed the branches aside before scooting a little farther over to repeat the entire process.
“Actually,” Yohji said, “Fangirl asked us to go to the meeting and have a little “talk” with this guy.” He paused for a fraction of a second, listening to Aya shuffling through more underbrush, before asking, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Looking for an electrical outlet. Why the fuck is there no electrical outlet when I need one?” Aya answered, muttering the ending question under his breath. He was quiet for a moment before exclaiming, “Ha! Found one!” He was careful to keep his voice quiet -- barely a whisper -- but the note of smug triumph was unmistakable.
Seconds later, Kitt’s front yard seemed to overflow with color as the Christmas lights burst into action, tracing mad patterns across the dark as they blinked and winked through their preset combination. Yohji squinted at the sudden explosion of light, and shook his head. The more he thought about this whole thing, the more it seemed like a really bad idea.
“What do you mean?” Aya asked, resuming their earlier conversation as he stood up and dusted off the front of his trench coat. “That’s exactly what we did -- talk to him. Besides, this is the perfect birthday gift. This guy was bothering Kitt; now he won’t. Simple. Clean. Easy.”
Yohji frowned again. Nothing about this debacle seemed “simple”, “clean”, or “easy”. In his experience, none of those adjectives came attached to a stranger wrapped in Christmas lights and dumped on the doorstep of Fangirl’s friend.
“You don’t know much about women, do you?” Yohji asked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aya said.
“Exactly,” Yohji replied. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” When Aya gave him an eyebrows-raised, questioning look, he explained, “Girls like jewelry or flowers or cookies or something sweet and considerate for their birthdays. A guy wrapped up in Christmas lights and dumped at your door doesn’t really qualify as … well, anything but weird.”
“They’re Birthday Lights,” Aya grumbled.
“If you say so,” Yohji said, rolling his eyes. He sighed and reached for the doorbell. “Let’s just get this over with. Maybe we can get back to the Bish Closet before Tristyn sends the rest of the beer away. I have a feeling I’m going to need a drink when all this is over.”
A light on the townhouse’s top floor went on in response to the doorbell’s ring. Yohji and Aya waited for what felt like a long time, although it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two before they heard Kitt’s footsteps approaching the door.
“Um … Hello?” Kitt called, her voice muffled through the closed door.
“Hello. It’s us -- the Dark Hunters of the Ni… mmmmpfh,” Aya began, his words cut off as Yohji clamped a hand over his mouth.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aya hissed, glaring at Yohji when he was able to talk once more.
“The whole Dark Hunters thing … not the best way to go here,” Yohji whispered back.
“What? I can’t hear you. Who is it?” Kitt called, still speaking through the closed door.
Yohji glared at Aya, motioning him into silence as he cleared his throat and replied, “Hey, Doll. It’s us -- your friendly neighborhood Bish Closet boys.”
“Yohji?” Kitt asked.
“Yeah. Aya, too. Can you open the door? We’ve got a little something for you here,” Yohji replied.
“Uh …” Kitt said, “I’m not sure I like the sound of that, so … probably a “No” on opening the door. I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but the whole assassin thing … and it’s late … and I have to work tomorrow. You understand, right?”
“Don’t worry, sweet-cheeks. It’s nothing bad. It’s a belated birthday gift. From Fangirl,” Yohji said, trying his best to sound reassuring. It wasn’t easy, considering his doubts about this situation.
“A gift? From Tex?” Kitt asked. She sounded curious but still unsure about the wisdom of opening her door to two assassins in the middle of the night -- even if they were assassins who lived in her friend’s closet part of the time. She paused for several long seconds, as if thinking it over, before sighing, “All right. If Tex sent you, I guess it’s all right.”
The chain rattled out of its lock and the deadbolt slid back with a small thunk as Kitt pulled the door open a little -- just enough so that she could peer out at the two assassins standing in her yard. As soon as she caught sight of the light-wrapped man lying on her doorstep, caution seemed to flee in the face of Kitt’s surprise and curiosity. She allowed the door to swing open all the way, pulling her robe tighter around her as she leaned forward to peer through the blinking, flashing light show. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized who the man was.
“Oh … my. That’s … my supervisor. And, Christmas lights. And, tied up. And, on my doorstep in the middle of the night. And, he’s … I’m … Oh my,” Kitt stammered, hoping for a rational explanation as she looked up at the two assassins crowded into her front yard. In the back of her mind, a little voice told her to forget about anything approaching rational in this situation, but Kitt was an optimist. So, she told the voice to shut up and kept on hoping. She took a deep breath -- enough to gather her slipping composure -- and continued, “Tex asked you to bring me my supervisor -- tied up in Christmas lights? For my birthday?” She was careful to keep her voice calm and even, but it was a struggle.
“See?” Yohji hissed at Aya, his words barely audible, “She didn’t get it -- the whole Christmas lights thing. I told you it was a bad idea.”
“They’re Birthday Lights,” Aya snapped.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Yohji replied.
He smiled at Kitt -- his best lady-killer grin -- and reached into the pocket of his trench to pull out a cupcake. It was chocolate, and a little the worse for wear -- smushed in on one side, with the frosting, which was the same orange as Aya’s missing sweater, sliding off the top and a crooked candle perched on its crown. Yohji reached into another pocket and took out his lighter, pulling it free from his coat and flicking it open and on in one smooth, practiced motion. He lit the candle, and Kitt couldn’t help smiling as its soft, yellow glow danced across her face. It was a bit battered, and, maybe, it didn’t exactly look edible, but Kitt figured it was the thought that counted -- particularly when one was dealing with Tex-chan’s pet assassin boys. And, she had to admit, it was a very sweet gesture.
“Happy late birthday,” Yohji said, grinning as he peered over the top edge of his sunglasses to wink at Kitt.
“From Fangirl … and us, too,” Aya added.
Kitt laughed as she took the cupcake from Yohji and blew out the flame.
“Thanks,” she said, “This was really sweet. Strange, but … yeah. Sweet.”
“I hope you made a wish,” Yohji said.
“Oh, I did,” Kitt replied. “I wished that I wouldn’t have to keep him,” she said, nodding down at her supervisor. The Birthday Lights winked back at her; she had to admit, they were kind of cheerful.
Yohji laughed, doing his best to shrug off Kitt’s concerns. “Don’t worry. We wouldn’t force a pretty lady to deal with something like this. Not on her almost-birthday.” He winked at Kitt again, causing her to blush.
“Okay, then … um … good night. And, thanks,” she said, barely stifling a fangirl giggle as she retreated into her house.
Yohji and Aya waited. They listened as Kitt slid the deadbolt home and locked the chain back into place. And, they waited a bit more, until they saw the light on the top floor go out again.
“That went well,” Aya said, bending down to unplug the Birthday Lights, plunging Kitt’s yard into darkness.
“No thanks to you,” Yohji commented. He paused long enough to light a cigarette, squinting as the light from the embers flared across his sunglass lenses. “So? What do we do with this guy?” he asked.
“Simple,” Aya said, “We take him with us.”
“To the Bish Closet?” Yohji asked, his tone of voice indicating that he thought Aya had finally taken a swan dive over the deep end.
“Yeah. Where else would we take him?” Aya said, shaking his head, “It’s not like we can leave him here. Besides, Tristyn needs something to practice that transportation spell on.”
“Uh, but we don’t know where stuff from that spell ends up, remember? We still haven’t found the remote … or the beer … or, anything that he’s sent away,” Yohji argued.
“I don’t see that as much of a problem,” Aya replied, glaring down at Kitt’s supervisor, “This guy deserves it. Wandering around in a magical sort of purgatory seems like justice as far as I’m concerned.”
“I can’t say I disagree with you, but Tristyn might not like the idea,” Yohji said.
Aya shrugged and turned toward Kitt’s gate. “Then, we leave him plugged in and hope Fangirl’s pin-headed dog chews through the lights and electrocutes herself. Either way, it’s a win-win situation.”
Yohji laughed at Aya’s crazy logic. Crazy -- and yet, it made a certain kind of sense. In a Bish Closet way. He picked up Kitt’s supervisor and followed Aya to the car, making sure he closed and latched the gate behind him.
~End~
Anyhow, I hope this is a fun read -- if anyone decides to read it, that is. *nervous laugh*
“Let me get this straight, Fangirl,” Aya said, spearing Tex-chan with an irritated glare -- the one where he barely narrowed his eyes and, somehow, made it seem as if she had just done something unthinkable and absolutely unforgivable. “You want me to do a favor for you?”
Tex frowned and shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she tore her gaze away from Aya’s angry glare and dropped it to her feet. Maybe, if she stared at the floor long enough, it would open up and swallow her, ending what was proving to be an uncomfortable situation -- and one of the biggest mistakes she had made in a long time. It was no good. The floor remained stubbornly solid. Tex sighed and looked up, avoiding Aya’s glower by looking around the Bish Closet, instead.
For once, there wasn’t total chaos in this space. Tex could remember coming in here to find dirty clothes piled up all over the floor, the television and every other flat surface coated with dust, overflowing ashtrays sitting around the room, and empty beer bottles, dirty dishes, and used food wrappers littering the counters. In contrast to those memories, the Bish Closet facing her now was so close to being pulled together that Tex might even go out on a limb and call it “clean”. There were a few empty beer bottles on the kitchen counter and table, two soda cans on the coffee table, and a half-full ashtray in amongst the bottles on the kitchen table. There were a few bits of paper -- crumpled paper towels and shredded napkins -- littering the floor, but that was because Fae had followed Tex into the Bish Closet and immediately raided the trash can. She sat in the middle of the paper mess, thumping her tail against the floor, eating a napkin, and looking every bit like the happy pin-head she was.
The TV was on, as always, although no one appeared to be watching it. A rerun of American Justice droned on in the background while Yohji and Wilhelm played Scrabble at the kitchen table. It was a special version of the game, made up entirely of curse words. At first, Wilhelm had been at a serious disadvantage. He did come from a different world, after all. But, he seemed to be catching on quickly; his vocabulary had grown exponentially -- in unexpected ways. Tex couldn’t help smiling as she watched Wilhelm and Yohji play. They were a study in contrasts. Yohji was casual and relaxed, as always. He leaned back in his chair, tipping it up on two legs and resting his feet on the kitchen table, and he had a crooked half-grin on his face. He looked comfortable and so at home, it was almost as if he had been melded to the chair to create some new kind of hybrid creature. But, then, Yohji almost always seemed at home, no matter where he was or what he was doing. Tex had always thought it was part of his self-confident charm. Almost nothing could throw him off. Wilhelm, on the other hand, leaned forward, carefully studying the game board in front of him. He looked from it to his pile of tiles, and it was clear he was wracking his brain to figure out his next move. He had pulled his long, white-blond hair back into a ponytail, except for a few strands that had come loose to fall into his eyes. Wilhelm made an irritated noise and tucked them behind his ear without ever breaking his concentration on the board in front of him, although he took a moment to reach down and scratch Bog’s head. The big dog lounged under the table, watching Fae devour her pile of trash “treasure”.
Tristyn sat nearby. He crouched against a wall with his legs pulled up to his chest, and a book called How to Master the Magic Within balanced across his bent knees. He looked up and smiled at Tex over the book’s top edge as he flipped a page.
Tex had to admit she had been surprised when Wilhelm and Tristyn had shown up in the Bish Closet. Everyone had been surprised, really. Aya and Yohji had done their best to hide it, but she knew it had given both of them a bit of a shock -- they come home late one night after a tough mission to find two strangers and a big, hairy dog lounging on the Bish Closet sofa, as if they had been there from the beginning. Tex hadn’t been around the Closet much in those first days, but the grumbles and loud thumps -- not to mention the frequent sound of breaking glass -- had told her things were far from peaceful. The sounds of discontent had subsided, and she thought things had resolved into a livable situation for everyone involved. If the bishie boys were unhappy, at least they weren’t trying to kill each other -- although Aya’s angry glare seemed to indicate things might still be a little rocky.
“You know,” Tristyn offered, as if reading Tex’s mind, “I can help you with that whole floor swallowing you up thing. I’ve been practicing.” He smiled and flipped his book around, so that Tex could see the chapter title: Travel Portals -- Your Best Friend.
“You will not practice magic on Fangirl,” Aya snapped, turning around to glare at Tristyn. “That’s one of the rules, in case you forgot.” He turned back toward Tex, shaking his head as he explained, “Yesterday, he sent our remote control … somewhere. We still haven’t found it. There’s no telling where you would end up.” He paused for a fraction of a second before adding, “Not that I care, or anything.”
“Oh, yeah -- You’re smooth,” Yohji sneered, giving Aya a smug smirk.
Aya opened his mouth to reply, but Wilhelm cut him off short with an exclaimed, “That’s it! Fucktard for the win!” He looked very pleased with himself as he slammed his last Scrabble tile down onto the board.
“Hey!” Aya yelled, “What have I told you about using bad language in front of Fangirl?”
“Do it a lot?” Yohji teased.
He crossed the room and climbed over the back of the sofa to slide down onto the cushion next to Aya, shoving the younger man out of the way as he did so. Aya shoved back, but ignored him in favor of continuing to direct an icy stare in Wilhelm’s direction.
“Yeah, yeah,” Wilhelm said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, “It’s one of the rules.” He waited until Aya turned around before muttering, “You’re not the boss of me.”
Tex covered her mouth and coughed to hide her laughter. It wasn’t funny; things had to be pretty bad, if Aya had resorted to pulling out The Rules. At the same time, Wilhelm sounded so much like Yohji that she couldn’t help giggling -- just a little. Luckily, Aya didn’t hear her. She was pretty sure he would make her regret it for the foreseeable future.
“The point is, Fangirl … I don’t think I want to do a favor for you. So -- no,” he said, shrugging.
“He’s a little upset,” Yohji said. “Don’t worry. We’ll do it.” He winked at Tex, ignoring the glare Aya shot in his direction. “Things have been a bit different around here, that’s all. You know -- the new additions. And, well, you’re not around much any more. I think Aya is jealous. Plus, the new puppy. She’s eaten three pairs of boots. And, your boy over there,” he paused to point over his shoulder with his thumb, indicating Tristyn, “Keeps sending stuff … well, away. Yesterday, it was the remote. Two days ago, it was my favorite stack of girlie mags and a case of beer. And, before that, it was Aya’s orange sweater. Although, I have to admit I won’t miss that thing all that much.”
“I’m not jealous,” Aya fumed, “And I love that sweater. It’s … comfortable.”
“It should be,” Yohji laughed, “It’s so ugly it hurts. So? What is this favor you need?”
“It’s not for me, exactly,” Tex replied. “It’s for my friend, Kitt. She had a birthday recently, and, well … I would like to give her something a bit special.”
*****************************
“Are you sure about this?” Yohji asked.
“Sure about what?” Aya asked, in return.
Aya’s question seemed loaded with implications, even though he had spoken in a matter-of-fact, offhand manner -- as if he couldn’t possibly have the foggiest idea what Yohji meant. Yohji sighed and, for a fraction of a second, wondered where he should start in explaining things to Aya. There was the fact that they were standing at Kitt’s door, in her front yard -- in the dark. As far as Yohji knew, Fangirl was the only person around who would greet the unannounced nighttime arrival of two assassins with squeals of joy. Most other people he had met -- however briefly -- tended to react with a lot less enthusiasm. And, then there was the little matter of the “gift” they had brought to Kitt on Fangirl’s behalf. Yohji sighed as he looked down at the figure lying at his feet -- a man, who was tied up and wrapped, head-to-toe, in Christmas lights. Yohji decided he would start there. Being an assassin, he felt it was always best to start with the bodies -- even when they were still breathing.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Yohji replied, careful to put a sharp, sarcastic-sounding tone in his voice, “Maybe … this!?”
He nudged the tied-up man in the ribs with the toe of his boot, frowning when the guy let out a pathetic noise that seemed like something between a whimper and a moan. Even as a favor to Fangirl, Yohji had to admit this whole escapade seemed a bit beneath them. They were Hunters of the Night, after all. Destroyers of Dark Beasts. Not some kind of universal hall monitors who should be sent out to bitch-slap every irritating person who crossed Fangirl’s path. No matter how much said persons deserved it, Yohji thought, giving the tied-up man another sharp nudge in the ribs. He couldn’t help smiling when the guy whimpered again. This guy deserved pay-back, no doubt about it.
“I don’t see the problem,” Aya replied, his voice floating out of the darkness somewhere to Yohji’s right -- muffled and seeming to come from around knee level. “This guy matches the picture Fangirl gave us. He’s Kitt’s supervisor, no doubt. And, she told us all the trouble he was causing with this “management meeting” nonsense. We even found him at the meeting, just as Fangirl said we would. We’re just doing what she asked us to do.”
Yohji could hear the sound of Aya shuffling through the bushes that grew near Kitt’s door. He grunted softly with the effort, cursing under his breath as he pushed the branches aside before scooting a little farther over to repeat the entire process.
“Actually,” Yohji said, “Fangirl asked us to go to the meeting and have a little “talk” with this guy.” He paused for a fraction of a second, listening to Aya shuffling through more underbrush, before asking, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Looking for an electrical outlet. Why the fuck is there no electrical outlet when I need one?” Aya answered, muttering the ending question under his breath. He was quiet for a moment before exclaiming, “Ha! Found one!” He was careful to keep his voice quiet -- barely a whisper -- but the note of smug triumph was unmistakable.
Seconds later, Kitt’s front yard seemed to overflow with color as the Christmas lights burst into action, tracing mad patterns across the dark as they blinked and winked through their preset combination. Yohji squinted at the sudden explosion of light, and shook his head. The more he thought about this whole thing, the more it seemed like a really bad idea.
“What do you mean?” Aya asked, resuming their earlier conversation as he stood up and dusted off the front of his trench coat. “That’s exactly what we did -- talk to him. Besides, this is the perfect birthday gift. This guy was bothering Kitt; now he won’t. Simple. Clean. Easy.”
Yohji frowned again. Nothing about this debacle seemed “simple”, “clean”, or “easy”. In his experience, none of those adjectives came attached to a stranger wrapped in Christmas lights and dumped on the doorstep of Fangirl’s friend.
“You don’t know much about women, do you?” Yohji asked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aya said.
“Exactly,” Yohji replied. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” When Aya gave him an eyebrows-raised, questioning look, he explained, “Girls like jewelry or flowers or cookies or something sweet and considerate for their birthdays. A guy wrapped up in Christmas lights and dumped at your door doesn’t really qualify as … well, anything but weird.”
“They’re Birthday Lights,” Aya grumbled.
“If you say so,” Yohji said, rolling his eyes. He sighed and reached for the doorbell. “Let’s just get this over with. Maybe we can get back to the Bish Closet before Tristyn sends the rest of the beer away. I have a feeling I’m going to need a drink when all this is over.”
A light on the townhouse’s top floor went on in response to the doorbell’s ring. Yohji and Aya waited for what felt like a long time, although it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two before they heard Kitt’s footsteps approaching the door.
“Um … Hello?” Kitt called, her voice muffled through the closed door.
“Hello. It’s us -- the Dark Hunters of the Ni… mmmmpfh,” Aya began, his words cut off as Yohji clamped a hand over his mouth.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aya hissed, glaring at Yohji when he was able to talk once more.
“The whole Dark Hunters thing … not the best way to go here,” Yohji whispered back.
“What? I can’t hear you. Who is it?” Kitt called, still speaking through the closed door.
Yohji glared at Aya, motioning him into silence as he cleared his throat and replied, “Hey, Doll. It’s us -- your friendly neighborhood Bish Closet boys.”
“Yohji?” Kitt asked.
“Yeah. Aya, too. Can you open the door? We’ve got a little something for you here,” Yohji replied.
“Uh …” Kitt said, “I’m not sure I like the sound of that, so … probably a “No” on opening the door. I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but the whole assassin thing … and it’s late … and I have to work tomorrow. You understand, right?”
“Don’t worry, sweet-cheeks. It’s nothing bad. It’s a belated birthday gift. From Fangirl,” Yohji said, trying his best to sound reassuring. It wasn’t easy, considering his doubts about this situation.
“A gift? From Tex?” Kitt asked. She sounded curious but still unsure about the wisdom of opening her door to two assassins in the middle of the night -- even if they were assassins who lived in her friend’s closet part of the time. She paused for several long seconds, as if thinking it over, before sighing, “All right. If Tex sent you, I guess it’s all right.”
The chain rattled out of its lock and the deadbolt slid back with a small thunk as Kitt pulled the door open a little -- just enough so that she could peer out at the two assassins standing in her yard. As soon as she caught sight of the light-wrapped man lying on her doorstep, caution seemed to flee in the face of Kitt’s surprise and curiosity. She allowed the door to swing open all the way, pulling her robe tighter around her as she leaned forward to peer through the blinking, flashing light show. Her eyes widened in shock as she realized who the man was.
“Oh … my. That’s … my supervisor. And, Christmas lights. And, tied up. And, on my doorstep in the middle of the night. And, he’s … I’m … Oh my,” Kitt stammered, hoping for a rational explanation as she looked up at the two assassins crowded into her front yard. In the back of her mind, a little voice told her to forget about anything approaching rational in this situation, but Kitt was an optimist. So, she told the voice to shut up and kept on hoping. She took a deep breath -- enough to gather her slipping composure -- and continued, “Tex asked you to bring me my supervisor -- tied up in Christmas lights? For my birthday?” She was careful to keep her voice calm and even, but it was a struggle.
“See?” Yohji hissed at Aya, his words barely audible, “She didn’t get it -- the whole Christmas lights thing. I told you it was a bad idea.”
“They’re Birthday Lights,” Aya snapped.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Yohji replied.
He smiled at Kitt -- his best lady-killer grin -- and reached into the pocket of his trench to pull out a cupcake. It was chocolate, and a little the worse for wear -- smushed in on one side, with the frosting, which was the same orange as Aya’s missing sweater, sliding off the top and a crooked candle perched on its crown. Yohji reached into another pocket and took out his lighter, pulling it free from his coat and flicking it open and on in one smooth, practiced motion. He lit the candle, and Kitt couldn’t help smiling as its soft, yellow glow danced across her face. It was a bit battered, and, maybe, it didn’t exactly look edible, but Kitt figured it was the thought that counted -- particularly when one was dealing with Tex-chan’s pet assassin boys. And, she had to admit, it was a very sweet gesture.
“Happy late birthday,” Yohji said, grinning as he peered over the top edge of his sunglasses to wink at Kitt.
“From Fangirl … and us, too,” Aya added.
Kitt laughed as she took the cupcake from Yohji and blew out the flame.
“Thanks,” she said, “This was really sweet. Strange, but … yeah. Sweet.”
“I hope you made a wish,” Yohji said.
“Oh, I did,” Kitt replied. “I wished that I wouldn’t have to keep him,” she said, nodding down at her supervisor. The Birthday Lights winked back at her; she had to admit, they were kind of cheerful.
Yohji laughed, doing his best to shrug off Kitt’s concerns. “Don’t worry. We wouldn’t force a pretty lady to deal with something like this. Not on her almost-birthday.” He winked at Kitt again, causing her to blush.
“Okay, then … um … good night. And, thanks,” she said, barely stifling a fangirl giggle as she retreated into her house.
Yohji and Aya waited. They listened as Kitt slid the deadbolt home and locked the chain back into place. And, they waited a bit more, until they saw the light on the top floor go out again.
“That went well,” Aya said, bending down to unplug the Birthday Lights, plunging Kitt’s yard into darkness.
“No thanks to you,” Yohji commented. He paused long enough to light a cigarette, squinting as the light from the embers flared across his sunglass lenses. “So? What do we do with this guy?” he asked.
“Simple,” Aya said, “We take him with us.”
“To the Bish Closet?” Yohji asked, his tone of voice indicating that he thought Aya had finally taken a swan dive over the deep end.
“Yeah. Where else would we take him?” Aya said, shaking his head, “It’s not like we can leave him here. Besides, Tristyn needs something to practice that transportation spell on.”
“Uh, but we don’t know where stuff from that spell ends up, remember? We still haven’t found the remote … or the beer … or, anything that he’s sent away,” Yohji argued.
“I don’t see that as much of a problem,” Aya replied, glaring down at Kitt’s supervisor, “This guy deserves it. Wandering around in a magical sort of purgatory seems like justice as far as I’m concerned.”
“I can’t say I disagree with you, but Tristyn might not like the idea,” Yohji said.
Aya shrugged and turned toward Kitt’s gate. “Then, we leave him plugged in and hope Fangirl’s pin-headed dog chews through the lights and electrocutes herself. Either way, it’s a win-win situation.”
Yohji laughed at Aya’s crazy logic. Crazy -- and yet, it made a certain kind of sense. In a Bish Closet way. He picked up Kitt’s supervisor and followed Aya to the car, making sure he closed and latched the gate behind him.
~End~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 04:45 am (UTC)Great job!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 04:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 05:28 am (UTC)Most of the stories are also on ff.net, if you prefer to read them there, instead of on my site. Although, there are a couple of fics (like the BC Missions ... and one one-shot fic) that will never show up on ff.net. They are only on my website.
Anyhow, if you decide to read, I hope you enjoy the fics. =D
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 05:26 am (UTC)You're so kind to want to read my other fics. They are mostly WK, although I have a smattering of stories I did for other shows -- mostly a one-time thing for them. I always have plans to write for other shows, but WK seems to eat my brain most of the time. >.O
Anyhow, thanks so much for reading! *hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 04:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-31 03:16 am (UTC)Thanks so much. And, thanks for reading -- even though it's a "self-insert", crack-ficcy thing. >.O
I hope things are going OK for you; I haven't seen you around in a while. *gloms more*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-04 07:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-08 04:23 am (UTC)(Actually, I hate it, too. This is the second fic in which I have destroyed the horrid thing. In the other story, a dog chewed it up. I get kind of a perverse pleasure out of killing off the orange sweater. *snicker*)
Thanks for reading!! =)