PSOH Friends

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Of all the things he loved about Leon, of all the things (and there were far too many to count ), it was the friendship that was perhaps the most sacred, the most enduring.

He'd never had a 'friend' before, though he'd had far too many acquaintances. He'd had associates and "D-votees," hangers-on and fans, but he'd never had someone who asked him questions and then actually listened to his answers; someone who tried to please him even when he was angry; someone who always thought of him first, even when things were seemingly difficult between them.

He'd never had anyone who watched him so closely, nor saw all the things about him that Leon saw. He'd never taken off his mask for anyone other than the one who demanded it most fiercely: his dear Detective. He'd never wanted to, before.

He liked the way they could bring up a subject and discuss it, sometimes passionately, sometimes calmly, and then drop it for another three months…. till one or the other of them thought of it again. They'd be right back on that same page, in tune with one another even while disagreeing, almost to the same syllable – the same breath. He liked as well that Leon could disagree with him; there was no glamour blinding him, nothing that prevented him from speaking his mind.

It was a fine mind, as befitted a man who solved puzzles for a living. D appreciated it, and the measure of the man whose mind it was. Compassionate and caring, gruff and impatient (handsome and scruffy and laid-back and rivetingly anal), Leon was the most intriguing man. There were so many brilliant flashes that D was dazzled sometimes…and wondered if perhaps he'd been blinded before.

Before he'd looked deeper, into the heart of the man.

0o0

He was amazing. Truly amazing. Sweet, like the blue steel of Leon's favorite handgun. As tough as old leather, as hard as diamond, but so delightfully emotional, so heartrendingly lonely that Leon had to bite back his words, choose them carefully, when he brought up certain subjects…and limit the shock value, sometimes, when he thought it might be too much for his otherworldly pal. He wanted to protect him, or so it felt – though he'd never needed to do that before, with anyone else.

The Count was adorable – in an elegant and stately way. He was maddening – and too often right. He had a marshmallow heart under that Chinese dress of his; a nature generous enough to allow any number of misfits and miscreants a home in his Shop, safe and warm. And a willingness to welcome an orphaned child. Need anyone say more?

Of course, the Count was also blindingly intelligent (a genius, really) when it came to solving crime. Or other matters, too, like whether or not Leon should go up for a promotion that might take him away from the work he loved best. D had said nothing – not a 'yes' or a 'no', exactly – but only smiled…and that was all Leon needed to make his decision.

Yes, D was very perceptive. Very in-tune with his nemesis, though a stranger might think they didn't get along all that well – but a stranger would be dead wrong. They were friends, of course. It went without saying. D was probably the best friend he'd ever had.

Of all the things Leon admired about him ( all the things, 'cause there were a lot), it had to be D's way of smiling though everything. It drove him crazy in the beginning…till he looked deeper, much deeper…and discovered D's heart.

Finis