Disclaimer: Noir is not mine. The characters of Yuumura Kirika and Mireille Bouquet belong to others than myself and I am only borrowing them for fun. I in no way will profit from their use.

Author's Notes: For those who have read my Rizzoli and Isles fan fiction, I started writing this over ten years ago. I have always been a big yuri anime fan. For the most part I find that each series is complete and self-contained, which makes it uninteresting for expansion. However, I felt their story had a wealth of possibility to explore with these two characters. Hope you enjoy and any review is welcome.

Chapter 1: Decisions

A young girl of 17 lay in the back of a rented Peugeot. Her short black and deep brown eyes were a testament to her Asian ancestry, though there was a look of the European in the shape of her eyes and brow. The young woman was not a large girl, but you could feel the raw power radiating from her lithe almost delicate frame. The dainty flower smelled of death.

Her breathing was rhythmic with but a hitch of pain lacing its rhythm. Her long strong fingers pressed a small towel against her wounded left side. The yellow towel was stained with her deep crimson blood. The wound was not fatal, but it was still bleeding profusely.

The skilled teenager had been shot. It was not the first time she had been shot in her profession wounds were common enough. For you see Yuumura Kirika was an assassin. The tough teen and her partner formed the team known in their world as Noir.

The driver drove with the skill of a professional race car driver as she easily managed the winding, curving mountain roads which cut through the border countryside. With Spain behind and France as her destination, the young blonde opened up the sleek sports car to its top speed. Her only thoughts were on her Kirika.

Yes the blue-eyed teenager had to admit it now; she was in love with mysterious young Eurasian. Her rich blues constantly checking on her partner who lay quietly in the back seat, bleeding. The deadly Corsican had to admit it because only love could be the excuse for forgiving the person who killed your family. Love forgives a lot of sins.

The blonde teen's long legs and skillful hands fluidly moved the pedals and stick shift to get maximum performance from the sleek red vehicle. Her concern was clearly showing in the blue eyes and normally unreadable features of Mireille Bouquet. Momentarily catching her partner's eyes, the 20 year old Corsican woman asked, "How are you doing, Kirika?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me anymore. I am the finest I have been in my whole life."

A smile haunted the brunette's face, as the young Eurasian recalled how her heart soared when she saw the tall buxom woman pointing a gun at her only hours earlier. The younger assassin had once asked her friend to kill her to relieve the pain of her life, but her partner had refused.

At the time, the brown-eyed killer thought it as a betrayal, because she didn't understand this emotion called love. Love was a stranger in her young life. The lonely young woman had never known it before, so how could she had recognized it when it showed itself.

The young couple had tried to kill each other, but it could not have been a very good effort, because both of the young women were very much alive. Everyone else at which either of these girls shot were not so lucky. The pair of women was deadly shots, well practiced with either hand. So, if the partners had seriously wanted the other died, the other would be dead. So the only answer was the young couple missed as not to hurt one another.

Kirika examined the anxious face of her love with the eyes of one who saw beneath all the masks and around and through all the walls that had been constructed over the years since the young Eurasian had murdered her partner's family.

Murder is the right word. At the tender age of 7, Kirika had shot and killed her girlfriend's mother, father and brother. It was a horror; her mind had tried and failed to make her forget. There was no forgetting or forgiving that act. There was only redemption. The only way to redeem herself for killing her partner's family was to love her and protect her onto death.

The adrenaline of the battle was wearing off and the loss of blood was weakening the young warrior. The blue eyes of the driver looked in the mirror and ordered, "Kirika stay awake. You can't pass out on me now. We are almost there."

The young blonde roared into the quiet village. The effects of the recent battle were still well in evidence and marked the small village as a dying place. Mireille had not been present when the battle to stop Kirika from reaching the villa had taken place. However the Corsican killer could see with her tired eyes that death had just visited this village and took most of the adult population with it.

The blonde young woman pulled her car in front of the small home that showed a doctor lived there. The anxious driver barely stopped the car, when she opened the door and dashed to help her friend. Gingerly the blue-eyed half of Noir helped her friend to slowly get out of the car. With Kirika's arm around her neck and supporting her with her shoulder, Mirielle helped the young warrior into the home of the village doctor, only to be greeted by a young blonde girl of maybe ten years.

The blonde Corsican asked in French, Spanish and Italian, "Where is your doctor?"

The young girl finally responded in French, "My papa is dead. He died defending Noir. I am sorry but there are only a few adults left in the village. I can get Madame DeVue, she is the midwife. She may be able to help."

The blonde heatedly responded, "Just take me to your infirmary and I will tend her wounds."

"Are you not Noir? We are pledged to defend Noir and must do what we can. The infirmary is at the bottom of the stairs and to the left. I will go get some help. Feel free to use anything you find to help Noir," the young girl said breathlessly as she grabbed her coat dashed from the house with her coat in hand.

Struggling to keep from falling from the weight of the near limp Kirika, Mireille guided her wounded partner to the infirmary. The room was dominated by an excellent patient table. The older teen lowered the table and laid her nearly unconscious friend onto it. Using a nearby pair of scissors, the Corsican assassin gently cut away the blood stained toga from her young partner's lithe body.

The experience assassin gasped as she saw many ugly scars mar her young partner's body. Mireille stared at that body for a moment and shook her head. The older half of Noir must stop the bleeding. Using a clean cloth, the young blonde cleaned the wound before applying the sterile bandages. Mireille bandaged both sides of the wound, to stop any further bleeding. She found some whole blood in a small refrigerator inside a closet. "Kirika, can you hear me?"

"Yes," she replied very weakly.

"What type blood are you?"

"A-", she replied as she drifted to sleep.

Examining each bag of bleed, the young woman found a single bag of A- blood. Hoping it was enough; Mireille hooked up an IV and started replacing Kirika's lost blood. At that moment three people came rushing into the infirmary. Two guns were pointing at the new intruders before they could say a word.

The three older women's hands jumped into the air, as the little blonde daughter of the doctor pushed her way into the room. "Wait, wait!" she exclaimed, "This is the midwife, Madame DeVue." The young girl indicated the one on the left.

Then the blonde preteen introduced the woman in the middle, "This is the new town elder Madame Fouche."

"And this is Madame Dubois," the child continued, "She is a former nun and has experience as a nurse."

Kirika could not hold her gun any longer and let her body go limp on the table. The young Eurasian would trust Mireille with her life; trust was all the damned assassin had to give to the woman she loved.

The town elder was the first to speak, "We welcome Noir to our village. We do not have much left after recent events, but what is ours is yours."

Mireille's gun never wavered. They would not get near Kirika without a bullet in the brain. The former nun moved forward and said, "We mean no harm. We serve the Soldat and Noir in particular. We know that Noir is the only one that can protect humankind from their own sins."

Mireille's gun was still steady and ready to fire, as she replied, "We are Noir, but we do not serve the Soldat. We are our own. We are Noir, but we serve only truth. And there is one truth you should know before you do anything. If she dies, I will kill every man, woman and child in this village. She is all I have left and I will not lose her."

The old midwife said, "We are Soldat. Not all who claim to be Soldat are Soldat. We serve Noir because Noir can bring the Soldat back to their true purpose.

I am not a doctor and know little of serious injuries, but Sister Jean once worked as a nurse in an aid station during the Chad War. She has treated many injured soldiers."

"Yes child, I can help her. Will you let me? You can keep that gun on me and if I fail her. Please kill me, because I would have failed my purpose."

Mireille backed away from the table, but the nine millimeter in her hand was steadily pointed at the nurse. The injured blonde backed against a wall at an angle at which she could kill every single person in the room without a waste of motion.

The faltering young woman did not notice that her wounded arm had started bleeding again. The concerned lover hadn't noticed the bandage on her arm was turning red as well.

The weary assassin had not slept in two days and her wounds had also taken a toll, but the Corsican blonde would not rest until she knew that Kirika was safe. The nervous teenager willed herself to stand watching with a steady hand while the nurse and midwife tended her partner… her love.

The damaged teenager had never loved anyone other than her parents. The blonde killer had been a lone wolf since her parents had been murdered. Mireille had only her uncle and now he was dead by her own hand.

All the young Corsican had left was Kirika. Kirika was the one for which the blonde assassin had killed her uncle. The deadly blonde had chosen Kirika that very night. How had the young assassin not seen by that decision she had declared her love for the younger killer?

Unable to recover from lack of rest and blood loss, Mireille Bouquet collapsed with her gun still in her grip.

Mireille opened her eyes with an alertness honed by years living with a gun. The .45 was still in her hand as she felt the weight of the gun to insure it was still loaded. She was in soft sheets in a warm bed. She examined her surroundings. Another bed was next to hers and there slept Kirika recovering from her wounds.

***** SE *****

Mireille could sense no one else in the room. She moved the covers and sit on the side of the bed. Fresh bandages were on her left arm and right leg. A band aid hid the scratch on her right cheek. But none of that was important. Her immediate concern was Kirika and security.

Kirika had two IV's in her, one in each arm. Mireille checked to see what were in the bags. One was normal saline and the other was a glucose solution. So, they were just replenishing her fluids. Next, she examined the room carefully. It was a fairly large room with two doors and four large windows, obviously a corner room of a manor house.

The experience blonde cautiously peeked out one of the windows. Obviously, the house was on a corner of the village as the corner windows look upon two different village streets. She didn't see anyone on the streets, which was strange. No activity, no one going to the shops or to work, there was something very wrong here.

Then she noticed a slight movement on the roof top across the street. Someone was monitoring them or maybe targeting them. A cautious knock on the dear, caused Mireille crouch behind a large stuffed chair. Quietly, the young woman moved from her position so she could better protect Kirika. Softly, she said, "Come in please."

She held her gun to ready concentrating on the door. It opened without a sound or anyone entering the room."Noir, this is Madame Fouche. I have Madame Dubois with me. We need to talk and Madame Dubois needs to examine your bandages. May we come in?"

"You may come in, but let me see your hands, while you do so?"

With their hands held in front of them with their palms up, the two elderly women entered the room. Madame Fouche did all the talking, "Mightn't Madam Fouche examine both your wounds for a moment?"

"Kirika first, I need to know that she's okay."

Madame Fouche smiled, "She will be fine. The wounds were superficial. It was the blood loss that was the problem. We found a match for her blood type and I have a half- liter of whole blood to give her."

The woman slowly reached into her pocket with the gun never wavering and pulled out a bag of whole blood, "May give this to her?"

"Go ahead."

While the nurse set up the IV, Mireille gave Madam Dubois her attention, "Who is watching across the street?"

"Ah, you noticed her. She thinks she is more clever than she is. That would Madeleine, the young blonde girl; you meet at the doctor's office. We needed someone to watch the street while you slept and she volunteered. We are so few now. We have only 84 people left in this village, eight of us are over 68 and the others are under 11. The rest of them are gone. The evil ones have destroyed us. After your partner escaped them, the soldiers were merciless. They killed everyone they found. We who survived were hidden in secret places by their parents. We eight elderly women were of more use taking care to the children and keeping them hidden. We are pledged to defend Noir and we honor our dead by fulfilling that pledge."

Mireille lowered her gun and started to put it away, when she noticed, she was naked. It had not even entered her mind that she wore no clothes. Her only thoughts were protecting Kirika. This was a new feeling for her. She hadn't had any feelings of protection for another before. Her parents and Uncle, she loved with a child's love. It had been their job to protect her. So, for the first time, she was the protector. She knew she was in love.

The young blonde thought on the topic. She knew she wanted Kirika like she wanted no one before. Did that make her a lesbian? She shook her head; she said out loud, "If so, so be it."

"What was that, child," asked Madame Dubois.

Mireille shook her head again, admonishing herself for her lapse, as she covered for her mistake, "Nothing, I was just thinking."

"Ah! You are in love with her and are confused about it? Being Noir puts the two of you in front of death every day. It is a bond like no other. You have to trust each other, to watch out for each other. There is no way that can happen unless you love each other. Stop worrying about her and put some clothes on, you are too beautiful for this old woman's eyes."

Quickly, she went to her bed and on the bureau between their beds was two sets of clean clothes, she took the one that was her size and put it on. The outfit was totally black and skintight. It was not the kind of outfit, she would normally wear, except on an infiltration, but the clothes were clean and she was getting cold.

The elder spoke again, "In the bureau and closet are things for Noir. They were prepared for you by the Priestess. She said that you would come and that she would be dead. She told us to prepare for the two of you."

Altena Mireille thought, "So she knew that Kirika would choose me over Chloe. She knew that one of us would kill her and Chloe. She had intended this outcome all along….BITCH!"

The anger on her face made the village elder retreat a step. Mireille noticed this and said, "Don't be afraid. We will not harm you, unless you try to harm one of us. Anyone who tries to hurt my Kirika will die quickly."

The old woman smiled and replied, "Child, you need not fear that. We are pledged to Noir. Look at the papers on the desk and you will get a lot more answers. I will come back in 3 hours and we can talk."

Kirika still slept, as Mireille went to the desk. She repositioned the desk so she could cover both doors, if the need should arise. Then, the young Corsican examined the documents.

The top document was a deed to a house in the village. She could assume it was this house. So they owned this house. Second was a handwritten letter from Altena. It read:

"My Dearest Noir,

If you are reading this then one of the three saplings is dead. I am assuming it was Chloe. She did not understand the bond the two of you formed in saving each other's lives countless times. She could not understand it, because I sheltered her from people all her life, though I knew, she loved you, Kirika.

All her life I did little to introduce her to the outside world and the fact that a bond forge between two people is stronger than the feelings of the individual.

Additionally, because you are reading this I am also dead. I knew what would be the outcome of how I fostered the two of you into being Noir. Don't think poorly of me. I needed to recreate Noir. The Soldat was formed to help humankind to develop a corrupt free society. The founders knew that there would always be those that preyed on the weak and innocent. They also knew that they would be untouchable by conventional authority.

So Noir was created to protect us from ourselves. Noir would ferret out anyone trying to gain an unfair advantage or one that would cause war for profit. Noir was to be a pair of virgin girls, who would form a bond through trial. They would come to love the other more than herself. Then those two would be Noir.

Noir is a necessary evil. Noir must protect the innocent and disadvantage. Noir must insure that humankind does not cannibalize itself. In short, Noir must get dirty to clean up all the messes that humankind makes for itself.

You two now have a decision to make. Either you disappear, change your name, change your face, change your habits or you embrace being Noir.

I know you will make the right decision. If you choose to be Noir, you will have to eliminate the inner circle of the Soldat. You have a dossier on each of the members in the folders that accompany this letter. Additionally, you will find all the information I have on Kirika's identity.

Secondly, you will find a deed to this house in each of your names. You may do what you want with it. After all it is your property now. You also have deeds to the Manor, as well as, houses in London Paris, Macao, Montreal and Rio de Janeiro. Each house is fully equipped with an arsenal and infirmary.

Within these documents is a list of contacts that can be trusted by Noir. They are Soldat that are dedicated to the old ways. They will do what must be done to save the Soldat from themselves.

Last, but not least, you will find the account number and password for the Noir account. It was created about 400 years ago and has lain dormant since the time of the last Noir over 45 years ago. It has been managed quite admirably by Shannon O'Doole. I recommend you continue to use her, but you can do whatever you think is best.

I know you hate me and think I was just a cruel bitch. However, I had a mission to accomplish. The world needed a Noir and I created her. I was harsh but to my credit I nearly relented many times. I'm glad I didn't. I can ask from you no more than this; stay true to each other and reexamine my motives.

Keep Well and Thank You,

Altena

Mireille set the letter aside and started identifying the files; a memorandum mentioned the apartment in Paris.

***** SE *****

Internal Memorandum

Fumigate the apartment occupied by Mireille Bouquet. Terminate with extreme prejudice any person or persons at that location. If the apartment is unoccupied place it under twenty-four hour surveillance and terminate any sampling returning to said location.

Soldat

The small memo made it obvious that the apartment in the Paris was now compromised and unusable, which was shame she had grown to love that apartment. If the Soldat were watching and waiting for them then there was no use going back. In reality the young blonde knew from the invasion days before that the apartment had been ineffectual. The more the voluptuous blonde thought about what the Soldat the more she wanted to put an end to their meddling.

***** SE *****

Mireille examined each remaining file in its turn trying to decide what she would recommend to her partner and hopefully girlfriend. For the sixth time in the last ten minutes, the lovely blonde glanced at her sleeping beloved.

Everything seemed in order and Mireille knew they would be tackling this file if for no other reason to eliminate the gentlemen who had been attempting to kill the dynamic team. The last file in the stack was on Kirika.

Altena found Kirika in a fisherman's home in Hiroo, Hokkaido, Japan. The toddler had been abandoned on the man's doorstep by a young Japanese woman. Her family felt disgraced because she was pregnant with a European soldier's baby.

In a moment of weakness the gentle Japanese girl had succumbed to the seduction of a young British soldier on leave. The young man was dashing, handsome and a bit of a cad. He took the pretty Japanese girl's virginity and gave her cab fare in the morning.

According to the report in the file, her biological father lived in Cleveland with a wife and three sons. He was a deacon in the local church and the local Boy Scoutmaster. The man had no criminal record other than six speeding tickets. Mirielle vowed to herself if they ever were in Cleveland this man would not survive their trip. Luckily for him, they never likely have a reason to go to Cleveland.

The Corsican blonde looked over to check on her partner and met her warm brown eyes. Kirika smiled a rare smile and said, "Are you alright?"

One look at her beloved's face and the young blonde knew for the first time in hours that she was.