Wow, how long has it been since I've posted something? (And how many times will I have to say that every single time I do?)

Anyway, for the sake of the story, please assume that Kratos (or Kurtis- blah, reality) has never met Martel before, and that Lloyd does not exist (yet?). Hey, it's AU for a reason.

Oh yeah- er, maybe some slight OOC on Yuan's part since I'm still trying to grasp his voice. don'tkillmepleasethankyou

And finally, standard disclaimers go here. (Do people even do these anymore?)

Nighttime in Los Angeles was like watching the sky fall to earth. One had to admit that even those large balls of gas in galaxies far, far away bent to the will of electricity and virtually disappeared from the heavens as the city lit up like a flame. But that was the way of the city- it ate your soul, regardless if you wanted it to, until you couldn't quite live without the constant trickle of noise and the thrum of traffic. Of course, with all that hustle and bustle came chaos, and it was left up to a select group to put that chaos out of its goddamn misery-- "LAPD, LAPD", to quote Chris Tucker.

So it was because of his job, his duty to protect and serve, that Kurtis Aron was stuck out at eleven o'clock in the dead of night, listening for the crackle of his two-way radio, or just anything plain suspicious. So far, nothing big- there'd been a flurry of movement around five minutes ago, but it had turned out to be some cat, out for a nighttime hunt, or whatever else it was that cats did at this hour. Aron didn't particularly care, not being partial in the least to animals.

"Hey Kurtis, how long are you going to stand out there freezing your ass off?" His irritable partner, Yuan, stuck his head out of the open window of their patrol car. "At least get in the car where we've got a heater." Yuan's blue hair, an eccentricity that Aron attributed to the man's Asian roots (They all seemed to have this odd desire to dye their hair unnatural colors- like silver, for god's sake.), glowed unnaturally in the pale light of the nearby street lamps.

Aron sighed. "You can't see anything in there."

Yuan groaned. Aron was famed for his single-mindedness, a trait that had particularly helped with reluctant eyewitnesses or grumpy house owners unwilling to let any man in uniform barge into their house. "We've got a sun roof- open that and you'll see plenty- and hello, ever heard of windows?"

The man remained immovable: "Glare." One-word answers always meant that Aron's opinion had been stated and that he would hear no further on the matter, even if there was still some logical argument to be made. It was usually left up to the unfortunate recipient(s) to decipher the exact relevance of his response, seeing as nouns, while naming a person, place, or thing, didn't always explain themselves.

However, Yuan had his own streak of stubbornness that was perfectly capable of withstanding Kurtis Aron's famed opinion of steel. "Get over yourself, Kurtis. The girl's dead, and you're not going to do anyone in either the force or on the streets any good by dying of hypothermia. I know what you're doing, and honestly? It's not worth it." Never mind that it was only around sixty degrees outside. (Eternal summer, that was what LA seemed to be stuck in...)

This struck a nerve, and Aron whirled around. Grabbing Yuan by the jacket collar he hauled him halfway out of the window. "Don't call her just a 'girl', Yuan- you know damn well what she meant to me."

There was a few seconds of utter silence in which both men stared at each other. Aron glared at his partner, eyes seething with rage, daring him to say something so he could snap in return, when all of a sudden he let go of the other's collar and pulled away roughly, looking deflated. "I apologize. That was unnecessary."

Yuan had been expecting a reaction to this effect. After all, the man had been forcing himself to continue on with life as if nothing had happened for the past week now, and although to everyone else it appeared as if he hadn't been fazed the least by his fiancé's unexpected death, he was well aware that simmering inside of the man's icy exterior was an enormous amount of pent-up emotion. "You really need to get drunk," he said calmly, retracting back inside the patrol car. "But then that just wouldn't be your style, would it?"

"That would call not only for a breach in protocol but also a large amount of mismanagement on my part," the other man replied stiffly. "So no, it is not 'my style' at all."

The conversation wasn't getting anywhere. It was time to switch tactics. Aron was going to spill his guts whether he liked it or not- Yuan would see to it. "Alright, Kurtis. I see how it is. You and me- we're not that far apart, you know." Yuan didn't stop to wait for any sort of ironic response. "And I'm not talking about distance here. I'm talking about relationships." He paused to let his words sink in before continuing casually.

"Women...they always can't go out the way you expect them to. You think you've got them, and then bam! They leave."

"I'm surprised you can talk about that sort of subject with such flippancy." Another typical Aron response.

"I'm just trying to make it a little gentler on the ears. Give me some credit." A buzz made Yuan halt before he realized it was a mosquito banging on the passenger side window. "But I know how you're feeling. The last thing you want is anyone's pity or condolences, because then you'll think about what could have been and then you'll feel like you failed somewhere- which you didn't, just in case you need some of that positive motivation."

There was no response from his partner, making it hard to tell whether or not the man was actually paying attention, which led to a long silence in which the wind blew and night carried on with its midnight symphony. Yuan was beginning to think that the man had fallen asleep or died standing up when all of a sudden Aron said, "I hate it."

His partner did a double-take, tearing his eyes away from the street in front of them. "What? You hate what?"

"This...this...goddamnit, I don't even know how to describe it." He yanked off his police badge and for one wild instant Yuan thought he was going to throw it down and stomp on it like there was no tomorrow. (It would be something fit for soap operas and the Lifetime channel, but if it helped Aron unstress, what the hell, right?) Instead, the blue-haired man found it right before his eyes as Aron shoved it through the window.

"See this?" Aron demanded. "This thing? I staked my life on this badge. I swore I was going to protect people, or at least make sure that justice was reached. And for ten years, that's what I've been achieving. That's what I thought I was achieving."

Yuan could only nod along and hope that his partner didn't lose it completely.

"So why?" Aron was gripping the badge so tightly that it looked as if any more pressure would cause it to explode. "Why couldn't I protect her? Why couldn't I do anything? For all my efforts, why couldn't I protect the one person who for me mattered the most?" He was trying to retain his unnatural deadpan, but failed as emotion got the better of him and his voice cracked on the last word.

"Nature's a fickle friend, Kurtis," Yuan began cautiously. "Disease is just one little present it sneaks into that friendship. You just have to realize that it wasn't something you could've helped and leave it at that. There's no point in agonizing over the past."

"Oh the irony," Aron replied bitterly, and his words hung in the damp air as they both waited for the other to make their move in the conversation. Finally, the red-head gave in:

"Yuan."

"What?" The other man stuck his head out the window. "Finally decided to get your head back on your shoulders and get back in here?"

Aron ignored him and pressed on. "You stated earlier that we were similar when it came to relationships. What exactly were you referring to?" He was fishing for a different subject- anything, really. Yuan being a smartass, to put it politely, wasn't helping things at all.

Yuan looked surprised. "You mean I've never told you? About Martel?" He thought for a moment. "Ah, but I suppose it would have only been when we were drinking, and since that appears to have never happened...hm, shame."

"Martel? What kind of name is that?" It was slightly infuriating how Aron managed to dodge every single one of Yuan's verbal barbs simply by ignoring them. There was something enjoyable about a little battle of wits and clever repartee, and right now he wasn't getting any of it. (It was like ordering a bottle of Pellegrino and upon receiving it discovering that the whole thing was flat. Not that that would ever happen, but hypothetically speaking...)

"The kind I happen to like," Yuan snapped back. "Thanks a lot, Kurtis."

"Apologies. I wasn't aiming to offend."

"Well you managed to, buddy." The way Yuan's face was currently twisted made Aron sigh. Sometimes being a poor speaker when it came to small talk didn't quite help sensitive matters. "Were you just looking to make some smart remarks this whole time, huh?"

The accusation was completely unfair (after all, Yuan had ribbed him first on drinking), and Aron was about to point that fact out, were it not for the realization that this was a migraine in the making. So he shook his head slightly and said, "No, go on..."

Yuan rolled his eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh. "Right, so Martel and I, we met a couple years back. To make a long story short, we were going pretty steady when, well, disaster struck. She didn't live in the greatest of neighborhoods, and one day this stray bullet...well, you get the point." He swallowed hard before continuing, although this time the casual tone was tinged with a familiar bitterness. "I was on the 405 at the time too. We were going to go out to dinner and relax...damn ring was even in my pocket. Maybe if the traffic hadn't been so bad I'd have made it in time- ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself. But you see what I'm trying to get at, right?"

"I do." Aron couldn't find anything else to say. He and Yuan, victims of circumstance- what a coincidence. It was almost relieving to know that he wasn't the only person who had this type of situation- or as people said, "misery loves company."

"It's incredibly difficult to make anything out of that, Kurtis." Ah, and Yuan had gone back to being biting over emotional.

"Use your imagination," Aron said irritably.

Yuan arched a brow. "The word 'imagination' coming from the famed Kurtis Aron's mouth? My god, where's a recorder when you need one?"

"I amend my previous statement. Use your imagination, Yuan, but not your mouth."

"Will do, if you just get in the damn car. Just leaving the window open is giving me chills." Aron grumbled slightly, but was obliged to walk over and slide into the passenger seat. "Much better," Yuan commented as he rolled up the window. "Now, are we all nice and cozy?"

"Very funny. I thought you said you weren't going to speak further." Aron was looking a tad annoyed. He hadn't abandoned his post outside just to be mocked.

"Oh yes, regarding that- I think I've had a change of heart." Yuan grinned in the darkness. "It wouldn't do to have you wallowing moodily about in here unchecked, so I think it's best if I even out the atmosphere a bit as your foil. Emo's contagious if no one does anything about it, you know."

"I am not emo. That--"

"--sort of thing is meant for melodramatic teenagers, et cetera, et cetera," Yuan finished with a chuckle. "Come on, learn to take a joke- won't kill you."

The response was even less than Aron's standard: a deep sigh. For the third time that night neither one of them could find anything further to say. (Aron had a way of making conversations end like that.) The radio remained quiet, the slight static hissing through the speakers--

"Yuan." The blue-haired man jumped slightly in his seat at being addressed so suddenly.

"What now?"

"If we ever have any free time, maybe...I wouldn't mind-- that is, perhaps we could go get a drink together?" It had been harder than expected, managing to sound somewhat coherent.

Yuan's answer was almost predictable: "Just one?"

"...whatever you feel like. I just..."

"Want to talk, is that it? Finally realized that two birds of a feather really can flock together?" Waves of smugness were rolling off of Yuan.

"That terrible cliché wasn't necessary." Yes, Kurtis Aron was feeling incredibly uncomfortable at the moment. And yes, Yuan knew that.

"Just acknowledge that I'm right, Kurtis. You've got something to get off your chest; I could tell you only gave me a preview tonight. Well, I'll be all ears the next time we catch a break, hear?"

Aron heaved an inward sigh of relief. "Just no snarky commentary, understood, Yuan?"

"What? After that horrible injustice you did to my girl's name? Sorry, Kurtis. No can do."

"...fine. No alcohol then." A perfectly fine concession, right?

"WHAT?" Yuan nearly hit his head on the car's ceiling as he tried to leap up in outrage. "You can't lead someone on like that, Kurtis. Getting a drink doesn't mean going to Starbucks! That..." His protests were cut off by a raised hand.

"Coffee will be fine." Aron stated firmly.

"Oh, for Christ's sake..." Yuan slumped back in his seat. "You can't be serious."

"Coffee will be fine." The red-head repeated, making sure to emphasize the word "fine".

"Goddamnit, Kurtis, this isn't the time for Jedi mind tricks!"

Yuan's grumbling continued for the rest of the night.

Hah I suck at endings. And make bad jokes- like that Star Wars one at the end. (I don't think it helped that I was listening to the Enchanted soundtrack the entire time.) Ah, and I hope the name change with Kratos wasn't too confusing.

Errrr not sure if I should continue this or not, so uh, feedback?