Leon discreetly gazed back at D, looking the kami up and down. Even he had to admit that the shorter man was beautiful. D was wearing something that was quite a bit different from what he normally wore. Leon recalled the Count saying that he didn't want to risk getting one of his 'nice outfits' dirty. Although, if this was what D considered ragged... well, Leon had decided long ago that the Count was insane.

D was wearing a blood-red sleeveless silk shirt with a high collar that went three fourths of the way up his neck. Over this, he wore a black leather vest with a low neckline and intricate silver embroidery that laced up with a silver ribbon. He had on black leather pants under a blood red silk sarong that was open in the front and hugged his waist where it had three sash belts spaced three centimeters apart from each other, holding it in place. He wore Givenchy flats, and long, fingerless blood-red suede gloves--very feminine too. To Leon's secret delight, the Count topped it off by wearing a garnet-studded black leather collar with a silver buckle on it. D seemed to have noticed by now that Leon was checking him out, and had started to fidget with his collar a bit, although the dense detective had not realized yet that Leon's elevator eyes were the cause of his nervousness.

He smirked as he dragged D along by the hand. "D, quit fidgeting. It's just a nightclub. A little dancing and alcohol ain't gonna kill you," he said as he showed the bouncer his member card. It didn't take much to convince the man that D wouldn't cause any trouble if let inside. The kami was far too fragile-looking to appear threatening, and he seemed to be quite a bit nervous about being there in the first place.

Once inside, D was nearly overwhelmed by the lights, noise and smells that filled the club. He hated this place already.

Leon pointed out where everything was, and warned him not to let anyone buy him a drink, never to drink anything that the bartender said had a 'special recipe', not to flirt with anyone at the bar (especially if the other person started flirting first) and, whatever he did, to NEVER go into one of the back rooms unless he was intent on having sex. He then headed over toward the dance floor to flirt a bit with the ladies.

D cautiously looked around, and finally decided to head for the bar, where it was relatively quieter and a bit more peaceful.

"I can't believe his nerve," he muttered to himself. "He drags me all the way over here, then leaves me to go flirt with those scantily clad –"

"Hey there," a voice said behind him. D jumped slightly. He hadn't been able to sense the human among the many auras. "You look kind of out of place here, and I couldn't help but notice."

D turned around slowly. He saw a man in his mid-twenties standing there, grinning in a friendly manner. A half-smoked cigarette hung lazily from his lips, and he was clad completely in black leather, but with black snake skin boots. With buckles. Lots of buckles.

The Count frowned in disapproval. He could tell that this man had a blatant disregard for all things living even without his Second Sight; the cocky way he carried himself said it all. He didn't even need it to see the stirrings of lust in the man's eyes. So this was the kind of person Leon had been warning him about. D couldn't really understand why. It's not like the kami couldn't take care of himself.

"My name's Tyson," the man introduced with a flourish. "Would you like me to buy you a drink?" he offered.

D's frown deepened as yet another red flag went up. "No thank you. I'm not thirsty." He looked around. "I think I'll go look for my, ah, bodyguard."

With that, he vanished into the crowd in a swirl of dark silk.

Tyson was furious.

D spotted Leon and hurried over to him, interrupting his conversation with a lady who was wearing as little cloth as was legal in a public place.

"Detective," he began timidly, "may we leave now?"

Leon frowned. "Why? We just got here."

D glanced around a bit before continuing to speak. "I ran into a man named Tyson, and he –"

Leon cut him off, turning to face him. "Tyson?" he asked. "Describe him to me."

D thought a moment. "Dark hair, blue eyes, tan skin, a little taller than you are and wearing a black leather jacket and pants, and black snake skin boots."

"Oh! I know him. Arrested him a few times. D, if you don't let him near you, then you've got nothing to worry about," Leon assured D. "Just stay away from the bar. Tyson's buddies with the bartender." He moved to turn back to the woman, but she'd already left. Leon shrugged and looked back at D, unable to keep a small smirk from his face. "If he sees you with another guy he might back off. Tyson doesn't like competition, especially when that competition is a cop. So, wanna dance?"

D looked worried, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Leon was trying to flirt with him. "Alright... but... wouldn't that put you in danger?" he asked softly. Leon answered by pulling the kami into his arms and holding him tightly.

"D, I can handle myself," the officer said confidently, nuzzling the Count's neck. "Let's just dance."

D blushed a bit as the next song started, putting his arms hesitantly around Leon's neck and allowing the detective to lead him through the dance. The detective happily put his arms snugly around D's waist, pulling him close. D's blush deepened a bit.

Leon was in heaven. Well, not literally... but D was just so perfect! The kami was so thin, and fit so perfectly against his chest... and he was more beautiful than any girl Leon had ever seen.

The detective shook his head lightly to rid himself of these thoughts. He was only doing this to protect D from Tyson... but there was a chance that Tyson might not even see them.... He was doing this because he didn't want to have to handle investigating another case of rape and murder... and he wanted to protect D.... But D had proven time and time again to be capable of taking care of himself... but that didn't stop Leon from wanting to do it for him....

"Um... Detective?" Count D asked quietly, pulling Leon out of his thoughts. "You've stopped..."

Indeed, Leon had stopped dancing, and was instead just standing there, holding D tightly. He spotted Tyson out of the corner of his eye, and, slowly so as to not scare the kami, kissed D gently on the lips.

He was more than shocked when D kissed him back.

D frowned when Leon pulled back a little bit. He liked that kiss. And his Second Sight allowed him to see that Leon had liked it, too. He hesitantly pulled Leon back down to join their lips again.

A young woman took the stage and started to sing. Throughout this song, D's and Leon's kiss had deepened until they were practically grinding into each other. They had their eyes closed, naturally. Low, feral animal sounds were issuing from both men's throats, and Leon was holding D in a nearly vise-like grip. D sensed his way across the club and managed to press Leon into the door of one of the back rooms. Leon took a hand off the back of D's head to turn the knob, and the door opened easily. D untied one of his sashes and hung it on the doorknob outside before closing the door. (He did all this without breaking the kiss.)

Narrator's note:

Well, I write only as a spectator. I can't tell you what went on in that room because I don't really know myself. It had an anti-teleportation shield, and one can only scuttle across the ceiling so fast before the door opens and closes…and unfortunately, it wasn't Death by the 1000th Spoke, so I didn't have access to the cameras in that room. I can read minds from a distance, but those two weren't really thinking, so, um, yeah…And no, I don't have the power to replay their memories. I can tell you half the club heard Leon's, ah, sounds--and D's climactic screams almost dislodged me from my place on the ceiling, where I had dug my claws in quite firmly, thank you very much.

Meanwhile, Tyson was fuming. How dare that police officer take his prize? He rounded up some of his buddies, left the club, and waited for D and Leon to exit.

Eventually, Leon and D left the nightclub, Leon with one arm gently around D's waist. D was moving a bit tenderly, as Leon had accidentally bruised him in a few places in his enthusiasm, mostly on either side of his waist. D had repaid the favor by leaving long claw marks down the detective's back that were sure to scar. Please don't ask me how that happened. Luckily, Leon was wearing a black leather jacket, so no one saw the bloodstains on his shirt.

"Detective," D started quietly as they headed across the parking lot, but was interrupted.

"D, why the fuck are you still calling me 'Detective?'" Leon demanded.

D sighed in exasperation. "Leon," he stressed, "we're being followed."

"Yeah? By who?" demanded Leon aggressively.

"It's your friend…" said D, somewhat nervously. Leon wheeled about. Unfortunately, he was pretty love-drunk, which prompted him to take a not-so-logical, not-so-rational, not-so-sane course. That doesn't mean I wouldn't do the same damn thing; it just means at the moment Leon was being illogical, irrational, and insane. The three I's, which have proved essential to my own survival. But, uh, not Leon's. O-kay then.

"Yo, Tyson! What's up, buddy! Looking for a ride?" Leon ignored D's reaction, which was to back up against a brick wall, shut his eyes, and bang his head several times. Looks like Leon and D are even going to have matching headaches in the morning! How cute, they're so close. Except, Leon will be hungover and D will just be…in pain.

"Actually, I'm looking for the asshole that stole my ride. Which happens to be you."

Leon was confused. "I'm your ride? Uh, gee, buddy, I'm real flattered, but I'm really not that type of--" (Liar. He'd just screwed D's brains out, hadn't he?)

"No, idiot, you're the asshole. And stop fucking calling me Buddy."

"Okay, so which am I, an idiot, or an asshole? Buddy?"

"I'll tell you what you are! You're a broad-stealing moronical asshole motherfucker! And if you call me Buddy one more time, I'm gonna--"

"You're gonna what? Turn me into a chicken?" sneered Leon. Uh, not the best move. Tyson grabbed Leon by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall, right on top of D. D didn't exactly appreciate having his sun instrument smashed, and while he was thinking about it, something else didn't seem quite right.

"Excuse me, Mr. Tyson? Did you just call me 'abroad'?"

"Yeah? You gotta problem with that?"

"What does that mean?"

"I mean, you gotta problem with being called a broad?"

"What is a 'broad'?" asked D, the same way a Neanderthal might ask the definition of "refrigerator," except more articulately.

"Gorgeous and dumb. Just the way I like my chicks."

D looked puzzled. "I am no poultry," he said.

"Uh, D, a chick is another word for a girl," choked Leon.

"WHAT?????!!!!!!!!!!" screamed D, in Leon's ear. "You astronomically illiterate, pathetic, imbecilic excuse for an orgasm!" shouted D, too upset to consider his words--or the way he was saying them.

Tyson frowned slightly and scratched his head. "Huh?" he asked.

"He called you a sex-driven idiot," said Leon.

"I said nothing of the sort!" shouted D. "I called him an astronomically illiterate, pathetic, imbecilic excuse for a--wait a minute. Uh, Leon? What were my words exactly?"

"Something something something excuse for an orgasm," said Leon.

"That's what I was afraid of," said D. "Mr. Tyson? I stand corrected. You are a, um, what Leon said. A sex-driven idiot. OH LOOK A COMET!" shouted D, pointing. Tyson, true to the title of idiot, looked around saying, "What? Where?" Leon took this opportunity to grab D and run. That is not as phallic as it sounds. I swear.

D sighed. "Leon, why must you always try to save me?" he asked.

Leon rolled his eyes. "Aw, shit, D. Can't you at least pretend to be grateful? He would have made you into shredded cabbage."

"I can hold my own, thanks," snapped D. "What am I going to do when you're not around? Insolent brats like Tyson will see me as defenseless, and if I start to depend on you for protection, I will be!"

"Aw, poor D," said Leon, smirking and not seeming contrite in the least. He put his arm around D's shoulder. "What say we take this back to the shop? We'll worry about that asshole later."

After a long night of lovemaking, both D and Leon had exhausted their...ah...energy. Ah. Yes. That's a good word. "Energy" it shall be, then. Ahem. Batteries are fine but I'm energized all the time, you and M-E spells LOVE to me.

Needless to say, neither of them was really prepared for a fight, especially not with Tyson. Unfortunately, that's exactly who showed up that morning. He used an ax to chop the door down and was screaming, "Hey, dickheads! Get out here and fight like men!"

"Oh, crap," said Leon and D simultaneously. (D was just as startled as you are, dear audience. But hey, it was an extreme case. And it wasn't like he was going to start attending the Leon Orcot School of Cuss n' Fuss.)

"Yo, jackass," replied Leon to Tyson. "I'm the only one here who's allowed to break down D's door, so piss off!"

D had a different tactic. Fully dressed (he once set a record once for fastest-dressed man in a Chinatown elsewhere), he put a firm hand on Leon's arm to shut him up before addressing Tyson.

"Sir, I apologize for my cousin's conduct. He was looking to--ah--drown his sorrows at a local hub last night. I hope you do not take this as a demonstration of our store's general management."

"Don't give me that crap," snarled Tyson. "I know that asshole's not your cousin. He's the ass that stole my consolation prize."

"How very unfortunate," said D. Only because Leon had known D for as long as he had could he sense D's sarcasm. "Perhaps you would like a pet to ease your...ah...distress. I have a species of snapping turtle that is very highly in demand. If you would please follow me to the back," said D smoothly, using the hypnotic power of his golden eye to lure Tyson into the back of the shop.

Several minutes later, D and Tyson came back to the lobby of the shop. Tyson had an albino snapping turtle balanced on his head. Leon didn't even try to wonder how the hell that was possible.

"Now then, if you will please read this contract very closely and sign. Remember to take heed of all three clauses listed here: Do not show her to anyone, do not expose her to direct sunlight, do not feed her poultry or fish or imitation meat. If you break any of these clauses, we shall not be responsible for the consequences, no matter how tragic they may be. Do you understand?"

"Hey, man, I ain't stupid."

"Beg to differ," muttered Leon. D glared at him a nanosecond, then turned his attention back to Tyson.

"Very well. Please enjoy your new pet," he said, graceful as always.

Once Tyson was out the door, D slapped Leon hard across the face. "What are you, an imbecile?" he snapped. "Your porky mouth could have lost me a customer!"

"Is that all you care about? The company? Damn, D, you really had me fooled."

D sighed in exaggerated patience. "Leon, if I lost Tyson as a customer, he could be a danger to us. Now that he has Sheila to keep him occupied, I don't think we have to worry about him anymore."

"What exactly--does that snapping turtle have any 'special properties' I should know about?" asked Leon, going into paranoid-cop mode. But D was onto him.

"Obviously," replied D. Leon tensed. "Sheila is an albino turtle, as you may or may not have noticed. Even her shell looked like it was carved from ivory. However, there is nothing particularly dangerous about her...as long as Tyson follows the contract to the letter."

"What happens if he doesn't?"

"Well, it really depends on which clause of the contract he breaks."

Leon waited for D to elaborate. When he didn't, Leon prompted him. "What happens if he shows her to someone?"

"Tyson sees Sheila as a beautiful young woman. If he were to show her to another person, that person would see Sheila as a turtle, and confusion would ensue."

"Okay...what happens if he exposes her to direct sunlight?"

"Well, I haven't tried it myself--" began D, but Leon interrupted him. Explosively.

"Dammit, D, this is serious!"

"Alright, alright. My guess is that Sheila will burn to ashes upon contact."

Leon gave D a look that all but said you have got to be fucking kidding me. He then gave his thoughts voice.

"Why would I jest about something like that?" asked D, looking very serious.

"I don't know. It just sounded so...out there. Like something you'd see on a sci-fi movie. Then again, so is a lot of stuff that happens with this store." Leon looked slightly embarrassed for being so stupid. D could have kissed him for how adorable he looked at that moment. "And, since I know you wanted to ask, if Tyson feeds Sheila poultry or fish or imitation meat, she'll go after his flesh."

"I almost hope he does that," said Leon, surprising himself with how un-Good-Cop-like he sounded. Hey, anything to protect a lover, right?

END "DOMINANCE."

WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CALCULUS STORY. STAY TUNED FOR OUR NEXT STORY, SOON TO BE WRITTEN.

See why I frowned upon the buckle gloves? They just scream S&M. (I want a pair. *snif*)

"With a flourish"? That's like calling a guy "flamboyant" read: gay.

It's a nightclub, Marie. They don't have to be within the bounds of legality. (And I wouldn't exactly call that woman a "lady")

How did this happen? You see, when you write stuff like that, you're really asking for it.