Title: Taking Forever by the Hand
Fandom: Yellow
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Goh/Taki, Hatozaki, Tsunuga, mentions of Kanji and Mimi
Dedication: Shanola22, for Yuletide 2006
Prompt: The request was for hot yaoi action!
Description: Three years after the Sandfish incident, a new mission leads to injury, trauma, anxiety, and doubt. Can Taki and Goh's relationship survive the pressure?
Rating: R for violence, sexual innuendos, and non-explicit yaoi content
Word Count: 11,553
Status: Complete (It was finished in early December but authors weren't allowed to reveal themselves until today)
Other Notes: Well, this fic was… quite a journey. First off, this wasn't even a fandom I'd originally signed up to write. If you don't know the process, in Yuletide, you request at least 3 different fandoms and offer at least 4, and then a fancy script runs a complex algorithm to match every participant to an assignee who matches at least one fandom they offered. I was actually matched with Shanola22 for Howl's Moving Castle, but she requested Calcifer gen fic, so I decided to go with this request instead, because writing romance is my specialty. Of course, that alone didn't solve the problem of coming up with a good plot for a worthy gift fic. After mulling it over in my head for a few days, I decided I wanted to write something post-series, dealing with how they put their lives back together after the Sandfish incident and after they returned from their honeymoon. Nearly all the Yellow fic I've ever seen seems to deal with that issue but apparently my interpretation varies a bit from the norm. Unlike most of the other authors, I didn't think that Goh and Taki would go back to their original line of business, or at least not in the same way they'd done it before. I felt like things would be awkward between Taki and Tsunuga for a while, and that Tsunuga would probably give up the informant business to spend time with his daughter. Then I had a conversation with a friend, who had been dating her boyfriend for five years. She was telling me that she wants to get married, and when I expressed surprise, she said, "Yeah, I know it's kind of weird. It was that way for us too. Even though we've been together for years, it took a really long time for us both to really start accepting the idea that this relationship might actually last. Accepting that was a big step, and I think it's the last big step you have to cross as a couple before you decide to get married." That really reminded me of Taki, and Goh's hint at the end of Yellow that Taki still didn't really trust and believe in him and their relationship. The idea for the rest of the story basically came from there.
Of course, it didn't take me very long to realize that I was in way over my head. My first draft of the story consisted of a script-style version of all the major dialogue in the fic, and that alone was 4,000 words long. And that was pure dialogue—not even the "he said" bits. I then estimated that the final draft would be over 10,000 words long, and I was right.
If you can't already tell after reading it, it was the first third or so of the fic that gave me trouble. I didn't want to skip the part about the mission and go straight to the more angsty part of the story, but it's true that the mystery/action/fighting bit is not my genre and therefore quite a stretch for me. WhiteAster helped me by betaing that part and I tried my best to incorporate her comments, but in the end, after a certain point, I did wind up just submitting it, even knowing that there are still some definite flaws and plotholes. If I could go back and redo anything, I definitely would've gone for something with a far less complex plot, because this was definitely way outside of my usual range, and while I'm all for challenging myself, I feel bad for writing a gift fic where I myself am not quite satisfied with the end result. Many apologies to Shanola22, and thanks again to WhiteAster.

"Quit making me jealous of your damn cigarettes."

Unperturbed, Taki continues taking periodic puffs while flipping through the numerology book in his lap for the fourth time this evening, pausing only occasionally to dump some of the ash in the little tray sitting conveniently in the center of the coffee table.

Goh does not react well to being ignored. Scowling, he finally rises from his seat on the arm of the lounge chair and walks over to his partner. In one fluid motion, he removes the cigarette from between Taki's lips, holding it behind his back while he leans over and kisses that same mouth, which still tastes vaguely of tobacco.

Taki allows Goh to indulge in the kiss for just a moment, even responding with his own tongue, but when he feels Goh growing more insistent, he quickly pulls away. With the same level of ease, he retrieves his cigarette, his eyes unflinching and never taking their gaze off Goh's face.

"Not fair," Goh growls petulantly. "My mouth should be the only thing that's allowed to touch those lips of yours."

"Just your mouth?" Taki teases, then regrets it instantly as he watches the heat in Goh's eyes rise another ten degrees. "Shit, forget I said anything."

"Too late." Goh lands on the couch next to Taki and wraps one arm around his boyfriend, nuzzling and caressing the side of the other's face with his own nose and mouth.

"Stop it, Goh," Taki whispers, turning his face the other way while he chews his cigarette even more intently, never taking his eyes off the book in his lap. "I'm trying to concentrate. We have work to do."

"Come on, Taki. Please?" Goh is sucking softly on the edge of Taki's ear, where he knows the other is sensitive. "You've been at it the whole night and we still haven't gotten anywhere. Reading this book through once more isn't going to help. There's nothing more to be found, so let's just call it a night."

Goh's tone is very insistent, but Taki isn't about to be dissuaded. "I feel like I'm missing it—something very simple. I know it's in here somewhere. I can find it. I just need to keep looking."

"Then look again in the morning." Goh is getting impatient. "Maybe all you need are fresh eyes. You know, give it a rest for a while and then start over."

"But damn it, Goh, we don't know if we have 'til morning," Taki says, then rolls his eyes. "And as if I'll get any rest if it's up to you."

"I promise I'll be gentle." Goh smirks.

Taki doesn't respond, still trying in vain to resume his perusal of the book. Goh being who he is, he takes the lack of an immediate rejection as an invitation, his mouth wandering down to Taki's neck, finally coming to rest on his collarbone, where his lips suck a nice, big hickey into place.

From this point on, Taki knows that it's no longer a question of whether or not it's going to happen. Even after three years of dating, Goh's desire is still insatiable, and once he has his mind set on quenching his thirst, there is very little—short of a swift kick to the stomach, and even Taki doesn't have the mind to be that cruel anymore—that will stop him. The issue now is simply one of delaying the inevitable.

Then again, there really is no point in stalling when either way, he obviously isn't going to get any work done.

They're halfway to the bedroom, Goh tugging at Taki's pants while Taki, already shirtless himself, fumbles with the buttons on Goh's collared dress shirt. The neighbor's antique clock is loudly tolling the hour—one, two... twelve. Midnight. Suddenly, the answer hits him like a bolt of thunder.

"Wait, Goh." He presses a hand over Goh's hungry lips. "Goh, stop. I think I know the answer."

His boyfriend can't help scowling. "Are you serious?"

"'The sign of the four'. That was what the cop wrote on his notepad before he died of blood loss from the gunshot wound—the message that they found with his dead body a couple of alleys behind the club this afternoon. He was trying to send us one last message tell us the location of the stash, since they took his cell phone and he knew he wouldn't live long enough to find another way to contact the station. But we've been thinking it all wrong. It didn't actually have anything to do with the meaning of the number 'four'. It was a riddle, to hide the intention of the message. The Sign of the Four. Sherlock Holmes." Taki is already pulling away. "It really was so simple. I can't believe I didn't see it earlier."

"Sherlock Holmes," Goh mumbles, trying to catch his breath. "Shit, Taki, what does Sherlock Holmes have to do with anything?"

"Goh, remember the name of the jazz lounge next to the club the cop was investigating?" Taki explains a tad impatiently, trying to pull on his shirt. "'The Blue Carbuncle'. It's a Sherlock Holmes title. It makes perfect sense. The club owners knew that people might be snooping around at the club, so they made a deal with the establishment next door."

It's not unusual for nightclubs to be a hotbed of drug activity. Large crowds of young adults are always the hardest to control, and dancing gives the freedom for individuals who otherwise would never have any reason to associate with one another to interact at will. However, an anonymous tip had suggested that at this particular club, the management itself was involved in the sale of the drugs—cocaine, marijuana, and large amounts of heroin. A brave cop had gone undercover to try to figure out the accuracy of the tip-off and the way the transactions were being handled. He had indeed obtained proof that the web of corruption extended all the way to the ownership level, and he also discovered the ways in which deals were made and money changed hands. Unfortunately, the night he finally discovered the location where the drugs were being kept, he turned up dead before he could report it—but not without leaving a couple of subtle clues.

Reflecting on his own oversight, Taki almost sounds vaguely amused. "We've been looking in the wrong place the whole time."

Knowing the nature of his boyfriend's resolve, Goh knows it's useless to argue and allows Taki to slide out of their embrace. "Fine. You go get ready whatever you think we'll need. I'm taking a shower."

"I'm sorry," Taki apologizes sincerely, pressing a chaste kiss to the other's lips. "Meet me by the car when you're done."

"Yeah, yeah, got it," Goh grunts while he turns around and heads for the bathroom. "Don't think you're off the hook, though. We'll finish this when we get back."

Taki can't help smiling to himself. Idiot. Let's just hope we come away unwounded, not to speak of having energy left for sex.

"So what's our plan?"

Goh still sounds a little irritated. He's gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly, eyes fixed on the road ahead and refusing to look over. Taki supposes that he can't fault his lover too much for minding the interruption in their lovemaking, even if they were supposed to be working.

"We go in through the back door. I trust that whatever lock they have, it won't keep you out. You make your way in. I'll bet they keep it somewhere upstairs. I'll go first, taking care of any goons that might be on lookout, while you find the room and start on the lock. We'll go inside, I'll grab the stash, and you ready a grappling hook just in case any guards find us before we can make it out unnoticed. If that happens, we'll use the grapple to escape through the nearest window. We should probably ditch the car on the way back. Maybe even spend the night at a hotel, in case they try to follow."

"Sounds easy enough," Goh sighs. "Although that's too bad about the car."

"We can come back for it later," Taki, the pragmatist when it comes to their missions, responds. "We'll get it checked out at a shop, give it a new paint job, and Hatozaki can probably supply us with some new plates."

"Hatozaki…" Goh muses. "Hey Taki, do you really think he's for real?"

"I'd like to think he's a good guy," Taki murmurs and leaves it at that.

"Me, too." Goh agrees. "He's done so much for us."

They're both acutely aware of how much they owe to Hatozaki. The car is just one of the perks of secretly working for the police department. The detective's covered for them, aided them with men and supplies, and practically saved their lives on numerous occasions. He can even be credited to some degree with helping to keep them together, living the lifestyle they know best.

They had just returned from their honeymoon in Europe. It had taken about a day for them to get settled back into their apartment and get over the jet lag. Frankly, neither of them had given much thought to where they were going to go from here. Obviously, anything they did, they were going to do together, and they had both essentially taken for granted that their old life would still be there when they got back, just waiting for the threads to be picked up again.

Hatozaki had called on them personally the second day. After they had gotten over their initial surprise—their meetings with the detective were generally in secret—they had invited him in for coffee, and the man had courteously accepted.

"Tsunuga has expressed his desire to continue to stay away for a while and spend time with his daughter. In fact, he's thinking of all but retiring. He'll maintain ownership of the Roost, but all managerial functions will pass to Mimi. She's worked for him for a while now and he thinks she's ready," he explained over tentative sips of coffee. "More importantly, where you two are concerned, this also means that he can no longer act as your employer and informant in the snatching business."

"...Oh." Goh swallowed.

Taki appeared to remain unfazed, but Goh knew his lover well enough to know that he was probably doing a double-take inside as well.

"However, I have a proposition for the both of you," Hatozaki went on in a business-like manner. "I received a promotion while you two were away. While I'm certainly not part of the top tier, I feel that it is my responsibility to start doing something about the corruption within the police department. A lot of it is drug-related. I'd known for a while that something was up, but recently I discovered that it goes deeper than I thought it did. Often, when squads go in for drug busts, they misreport the amount that was discovered in the official documents. They usually leave enough for us to prosecute, but there's still a lot that goes missing. I do not know what they do with it—use it themselves or sell it—but it ought not be tolerated any longer.

"My idea is as follows: Basically, before a squad is sent out on a drug bust, I'll send you all the information I know about where the drugs are being hidden. You'll probably be notified as few as 12 but no more than 72 hours in advance. From there on out, it will be your job to retrieve the goods, leaving behind only enough for us to arrest and prosecute the offenders. The rest you will deliver to me, so that I may see to it that it is properly disposed of, as it should be. I will, of course, make it well worth your while."

"So we're going to be cops?" Goh scoffed.

Hatozaki shook his head. "No. In fact, you won't even be on the police department's official payroll. There are... other ways in which I can make sure you're suitably compensated." He paused and cast his eyes downward. "The police department's bookwork hasn't exactly been in order for the past several years. It won't be hard to sneak in your fee under 'consulting services' or a similar service. Failing that, if it becomes necessary, I'm willing to foot the bill myself if that's what it'll take to have your aid in eliminating the drug scandals."

"If you're so passionate about this issue, why not go public?" Taki questioned.

"If I receive any more publicity, I won't be able to stave off the marriage arrangements any longer," Hatozaki explained. "I do have Yukiya's interests at heart as well."

"Of course." The couple smiled meaningfully at each other.

Hatozaki cleared his throat before continuing. "Think of it as just like your old job, except that you're working within a slightly shorter time-frame, and you're ultimately, if not officially, employed by the police. In other words, you're doing this in the service of the city and its people, who deserve proper protection."

"That is, if we can trust you," Goh challenged. "After all, you could be taking the drugs and selling them yourself."

"I could be, but I would hope that you can feel as though you can trust me by now," Hatozaki replied stoically. "I truly do."

"Should we review the plan?" Taki asks as Goh parks the car about half a block away from their destination.

"No, I've got it." Goh declines. "And we've been over all the other stuff—"

"—No heroics, no sacrificing ourselves, and no one gets left behind," Taki recalls the list from memory with a slightly sardonic roll of the eyes. "Yeah, I know." He pauses, smiles. "I love you."

"Don't say that unless you're ready to feel the full power of my love!" Goh smirks with his usual casual, playful attitude.

"Moron." Taki grins back. "We have work to do."

Goh pulls the key out of the ignition and opens the car door. "Then let's get to it!"

Even outside the club, the music is deafeningly loud. It takes them a few tries to get into the back alley unnoticed; a lot of couples are hanging around, making out or fighting or otherwise wrapped up in their own business, but Goh and Taki know not to take any chances.

Most nightclubs don't let out until at least 2 AM. As it's only a little after 1, it's a stroke of luck that there's no one guarding their back door. The jazz lounge next door, however, closed at midnight, and so long as the employees are finished closing up, they should be able to get inside fairly easily. That is, so long as the agreement between the club and the lounge doesn't include the stationing of goons inside to guard their stash.

Once they're within 50 meters of their destination, Taki and Goh can no longer speak out loud, only using signs and symbols to communicate. Goh swiftly moves toward the jazz lounge's back door, pulling out his tools to make easy work of the lock. Meanwhile, Taki takes a last surveying look at the area to ensure that they have not been seen. At the sharp click of the locking mechanism, Goh pulls open the door, and the two wordlessly slip inside.

The silence is even more overwhelming than the darkness. The building is well-insulated—as it should be, in order for its customers to be able to enjoy live jazz music rather than the loud blaring of hip-hop. Taki realizes that this also makes it the perfect setting for the shadiest transactions that the club is involved in. He wonders if the management of the Blue Carbuncle is aware of exactly what kind of business is going on in their back rooms. Either way, when Hatozaki's unit comes in for the bust, they will be held at the very least partially liable. It'll likely be the end of both establishments. A pity for the nightlife in this neighborhood, but it's not like the city won't easily recover.

The time it takes for their eyes to adjust feels excruciatingly slow. Goh suddenly reaches out, fumbling in the darkness for his flashlight. The movement startles Taki. He's a bit more antsy than usual. Perhaps it's because his nerve endings are still electrically charged from earlier that evening.

When the penlight flicks on, Goh has already found the stairs. The illumination isn't much, but it's enough for Taki to tell that the ground level consists of a typical bar's back area: refrigerators, ice machines, employee restroom, some storage areas, the busboy's sink, and several large trash cans. A quick glance in each corner reveals that there are no thugs laying in ambush. Another survey and he spots the breaker-box. Ripping most of the cable connections, he shuts off the power, disabling any alarm systems.

Knowing there is no use in dawdling if the place is deserted, Taki ascends the stairs. Goh follows behind quickly.

The second story features a series of small rooms along a corridor—administrative offices, from the looks of it. Their gazes are immediately drawn to one door that stands out. Instead of having a regular key lock, it has a giant number dial.

Their eyes meet. Bingo.

Goh zones in on the door and begins to work on the lock without delay while Taki covers him from behind. He feels a little uneasy—the corridor appears to make a turn at the other end. Should he check to verify that no one is waiting around the corner? But he'd have to walk quite a ways, leaving Goh's back unprotected. The most vulnerable part of their routine is when Goh is working the lock, because as skilled as he might be, he usually has little time to focus his attention on anything else.

Before he has time to decide what to do, the lock clicks open and the light switches off. Taki shakes off his unease; the far end of the corridor isn't an effective place for a goon to be hiding, anyway. Goh silently transfers the penlight to his hand, and they switch places, Taki at the door with his partner at his back.

"Start readying the grappling hook the minute I go inside, and look around for the nearest window," Taki whispers under his breath.

Goh responds with a simple grin and a thumbs-up.

Taki takes a breath, then eases open the door. It's lighter than he thought it would be. He tries to make out any figures in the darkness beyond, but there don't appear to be any. When he doesn't spot any signs of movement, he flicks on the penlight and scans the small room.

With standard furniture like a desk and chair and large wooden bookcases, it's disguised as an office, but it's clear that it isn't used as such. There's no computer, no obnoxiously large stacks of paper, and the bookcases contain library books rather than manuals and binders. The furnishings do serve as excellent camouflage for the black leather briefcase sitting against the wall on the other side of the desk. At first glimpse, you would completely miss it.

"Got it," he breathes as he scurries inside, Goh following closely at his back.

"Shit. Taki, there's no window," Goh observes from the center of the room as Taki moves around the desk in order to retrieve the briefcase.

"The nearest one is out in the hall, then." Taki is shaking the briefcase to ensure that he isn't just falling for a decoy.

Upon hearing the rustling sound of plastic being moved around, he pries open the latches. He was right; the case is filled to the brim with drugs in little plastic bags. In addition to their standard loot of cocaine, marijuana and heroin, there's also LSD, XTC, and another powder that Taki guesses is probably some form of date rape drug. Not unusual in the club scene. He removes one small bag of cocaine, hides it in one of the desk drawers, and closes the briefcase.

Simultaneously, his ears pick up the barely perceptible sound of one of the office doors softly falling shut right outside. His thoughts are almost too slow for this kind of situation—There is somebody out there and they are trying to surprise us.

"Shit!" He looks up from where he's crouching on the floor to see that Goh is watching him, waiting for him to finish. "Goh, turn aro—"

Springing to his feet, he never has a chance to finish his sentence before the noise of a gun being fired permeates the air.

In the movies, they make it seem like scenes like this one happen in slow motion. It's far from true. While Taki can't seem to get past the thought, The offices—why didn't I check the offices?!, the bullet quickly outruns his eyes; he never sees the impact, only that suddenly, Goh is on the floor in the middle of the room, and there's a pool of blood behind where his head lies.

The entire time, Taki is flying through the air, leaping at their assailant in the doorway. His left hand makes contact with the gun at the instant that the side of his right hand comes down on the man's neck. He goes down instantly, leaving the gun in Taki's grasp.

The rest of the scene is a blur. With the gun in one hand, pointed at the doorway in case any other goons try to enter, and clutching the penlight like a lifeline in the other, Taki crawls back to check on Goh. There's too much blood, too much blood. Too much. His eyes are closed. Is he breathing? Taki tries to check for a pulse, but his hand is shaking too much; he can't tell if he feels anything. He doesn't realize he's been screaming the entire time until he feels his throat start to burn.

His body is still moving, but his mind is shutting down—began to shut down the minute that bullet made contact with the back of Goh's head. Everything seems to be frozen in that single instant: time, Goh's downward motion, Taki's blood, his heartbeat...

Bump bump. Ba-bump. Bump bump. Ba-bump. Bump. Ba Bump. Bump. Ba. Bump. Bump...

Beep. Beep beep. Beep. Beep beep. Beep. Beep beep. Beep. Beep beep.

At least three different machines are emitting constant high-pitched beeping sounds. The consistency should be comforting, but it isn't. It's almost like a scene out of a sci-fi movie; all the colors are too intense, the contrast is too high, and all the noises are sharp and shrill. It's like being shoved out into the sunlight when you have a severe migraine.

Taki thinks he's going to be sick, and he hasn't been in the room but ten minutes. After enduring three hours of gruelling interrogation by the police, they had refused to let him in until the patient was declared stable following his operation.

He's running his fingertips over Goh's sleeping face, feeling the signs of life, when he is interrupted by the entrance of a doctor and a nurse. The doctor examines the readings on the machines and compares them to a chart he is holding while the nurse takes down a few numbers and adjusts the morphine drip.

The doctor clears his throat as he consults his paperwork. "You are, umm, his partner? ...Taki-san?"

"I am." Taki's voice sounds hoarse even to himself.

The man transfers his binder to one hand in order to pat Taki on the back with the other. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

The doctor guides him toward the door without waiting for a response. Taki doesn't argue. He's still so numb inside that having people making these kinds of decisions for him actually feels pretty good.

He's taken back out into the wide hallway. Nurses are scurrying about like ants. A surgeon sprints down the corridor toward the elevator, and Taki only narrowly avoids a collision. A few visitors are stumbling about, looking lost and about as dazed as he himself is feeling.

They reach a small waiting area. On the side, a narrow table is home to a coffee machine. The doctor makes a straight path toward it, pouring two cups and handing one to Taki without asking if he'd like any. Taki is grateful; he's not sure he could handle that kind of small talk.

He just wants answers.

However, the doctor sips at his coffee and makes no move to talk, though Taki looks at him expectantly. Taki doesn't know if it's because the doctor is trying to figure out what to say to him, or if he's waiting for the younger man to ask the question. After years of medical practice and dealing with patients, the surgeon appears to have developed an excellent poker face.

Taki decides he's too impatient for these kinds of mind games and skips straight to the point.

"Doctor?" His voice keeps choking up, and he keeps having to swallow multiple times before being able to form coherent words. "Did... Did everything go well?"

The doctor makes an attempt at a reassuring smile, then opts for a slight nod of the head. "Your partner is very lucky. The bullet was lodged where the skull meets the spine—barely missed his brain. Just half a centimeter closer and we don't know what kind of permanent damage he might have sustained."

"So... so he'll be just fine?" Taki's eyes have gone wide, but he doesn't want to hope for the best quite yet; something about the doctor's attitude is disconcerting.

He's being too... too apologetic.

Taki's fears are confirmed when the man casts his eyes toward the ground. "Well..."

"Doctor?" The young snatcher can feel his heart freezing in his chest.

The doctor sighs, then looks Taki in the eyes again. "How familiar are you with the practice of medicine?"

Taki shakes his head. "Only from what I've read... I never really went to school for very long."

The doctor is nodding; he appears unsurprised. "All right, then, I'll try to give this to you in the plainest language I can." He pauses, then continues in a very business-like manner, "The path of the bullet caused what's called an aneurysm—a swollen blood vessel—that put immense pressure on a certain part of his spine. We found the aneurysm when we went in to remove the bullet. We had two choices; we could have waited to see if the swelling would go down naturally, or we could operate immediately. If the swelling did not go down or if it increased, it could potentially endanger his life. Since his condition was already critical, it was decided that operating immediately was the better option. However, there are possible... complications, as there with almost any surgery."

"Complications?" Taki swallows, takes a breath, then tentatively asks, "He's not... going to be paralyzed, is he?"

"No, no, nothing quite that dramatic, you can rest assured." The doctor waves his arms in a 'no' gesture to emphasize his words. "However, the part of the spine that was affected—the small area that withstood the most risk of damage in the surgery is an important part of the path that nerve signals take from the brain to the arms and hands. Although we had some of our most skilled neurosurgeons performing the operation and we all did the best we could, the chance is high that there may have been permanent damage."

Taki has to take a moment to take it all in. "With his arms and hands?"

"Yes." The business-like tone has again been replaced by the apologetic one.

When he doesn't say anything else, Taki asks, "How sure are you?"

"We can't be certain until he wakes up and the anesthesia and other painkillers fully wear off, but the chance of some form of damage being sustained is quite large." There's a painful, almost guilty look in the doctor's eyes, and Taki would feel sorry for him if he wasn't in such distress himself. "I'm sorry. We really did the best we could."

"I know you did. He's alive, right?" Taki knows his smile looks forced, even from the outside, but he tries anyway. "Thank you, doctor."

The doctor does not respond to the thank-you; perhaps he feels that gratitude is not in order. "Now, the only remaining question is who should tell the patient. Since I know that we surgeons can be perceived as cold and impersonal, we always give the person closest to them the option of being the one to break the difficult news. However, if you feel that it would simply be easier for me to do so, I will gladly do the telling."

Taki takes a breath—a moment to consider whether he's up to the task—but it soon occurs to him that this isn't about him or his own fears and insecurities; this is about Goh's needs. "I'll do it. I'll tell Goh."

The man simply nods, pats him on the back again, and turns to walk away. "All right. Thank you. I'll be back to check on you both later. Get some rest."

Beep. Beep beep. Beep. Beep beep.

Four hours of sitting and waiting at Goh's bedside and he can't believe he hasn't managed to tune out the noise yet. It just seems to be growing more obnoxious by the hour, every hour that Goh still hasn't woken up.

Finally, there's a stir on the hospital bed, but Taki is so immersed in his thoughts that he doesn't even realize it until Goh speaks up.

"I can't believe you haven't busted me out of here yet, Taki. Isn't it about time for a jailbreak?" His voice sounds light and strained, like he's fighting through a fog in order to be able to speak.

Sitting up and taking Goh's hand in his, Taki smiles in spite of himself. "Not this time, Goh."

"What, don't you get sick of seeing the insides of hospitals all the time?" His tone is typical Goh, that easy-going, half-joking lilt of his, but the accompanying smile doesn't make it all the way.

"I get sick of you being reckless and making me worry," Taki snaps suddenly, his voice and eyes betraying the pain he is feeling inside; then, realizing what he just said, he sighs, takes a breath, and start over. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm really just glad you're okay."

Goh manages about half a frown before giving up, but the serious look in his eyes says it all. "That sad expression you have is making me wonder whether I should be asking how much longer I have to live. You're scaring me, Taki."

Taki tries for a comforting smile, knowing full well that he can't hide the sadness in his eyes. "Don't be scared. You'll live."

"But." Goh makes it a statement, not a question.

Taki closes his eyes and shakes his head, Goh's hand still clasped in his own.

"Damnit, Taki, you're not telling me something!" Goh is truly scowling now, and Taki can't imagine how much effort that must take him.

Taki pleads, "Not yet, Goh. Not yet."

"Shit! I can't feel my body! Taki, I can't—" Goh's thin voice sounds panicked—frantic, almost.

Taki reassures him with a kiss on the forehead. "The anesthesia hasn't worn off yet, that's all. You'll be fine. Just go back to sleep."

He continues to caress Goh's face, and gradually, the other begins to relax.

"When I wake up, will you tell me what's going on? And we'll talk?" Goh's voice almost sounds childlike, as though he's asking a parent to keep watch over him so the monsters won't get him while he's sleeping.

Nuzzling the side of Goh's face with his own, Taki forces another smile. "Yeah, we'll talk. When you wake up. Now sleep. I'll be right here beside you."

As if to demonstrate, he rests his head on the mattress by Goh's shoulder, wrapping both of his arms around Goh's as a gesture of reassurance.

A soft whisper permeates the air: "I love you."

There is no interruption in the steady rise and fall of Goh's chest.

Taki chuckles lightly. "You didn't hear that, did you?"

He smiles to himself. It's okay, he thinks. The most important thing is that I know it.

"The flowers are from Mimi. Kanji made the card. He said he doesn't believe in store-bought gifts so he insisted on making something himself."

Tsunuga is watching him carefully as Taki grins feebly in response. The latter tries his best to appear composed and grateful, but he is becoming increasingly aware of how thin his façade is as the older man continues to gaze at him with those searching eyes.

Tsunuga hasn't let go of his shoulder since they left the room together. "I talked to the doctor."

"And?" Taki pauses and sighs, no longer pretending that everything is fine. "He told you about the... 'complications'?"

Tsunuga's grim expression alone is a sufficient reply, but the former café owner answers anyway. "Yeah, he did. Have you had any confirmation yet?"

"No. The anesthesia and the drugs haven't worn off. He woke up briefly, but he went back to sleep." Taki finds himself spacing out a little as he speaks in an effort not to let his emotions take over.

The old man is still scrutinizing every nuance of his expression. "And you didn't tell him?"

Taki casts his eyes downward and shakes his head. "Not yet."

There's a brief pause in the conversation. Tsunuga blinks as he tries to discern what Taki is thinking; light confusion is written all over his face.

"Are you waiting for the doctor to tell him?" he asks tentatively. "Would you like me to tell him?"

"No, no, I think I should be the one to tell him." Taki shakes his head again but seems to waver a little, then declares with more resolve, "I have to tell him."

Tsunuga does not hesitate to point out, "But you're stalling."

Taking a deep breath as he grabs his head, the younger man pleads, "I just need time. I need time, too. Time to find my strength. I want to be strong. For the both of us. Especially if the worst-case scenario does come to pass."

Taki isn't pleading with Tsunuga as much as with himself and with everyone in general. Despite being acutely aware of his own shortcomings and the limits to his own endurance, he feels an immense pressure to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders now that Goh is disabled, and Tsunuga, too, is probably aware that he still hasn't changed all that much in the past three years.

"Well, all right, then. Take it easy, Taki. Don't push yourself too hard. Goh is strong too, you know." Tsunuga pauses and smiles reassuringly, finally letting go of Taki's shoulder as he turns to leave. "Come and see me when you need to talk."

For the first time, a little bit of the smile reaches Taki's eyes; a few well-placed and not sickeningly sympathetic words of kindness will do that. "I will. Thank you, Tsunuga."

"I was looking at you, you know."

Taki didn't realize he was dozing until he discovers that Goh's soft voice is not a part of the dream he was having. A quick glance reveals that it's pitch-black outside and quiet in the halls. Last he remembered, it was just nearing the end of visiting hours. He must have finally managed to tune out the fucking beeps.

Sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he murmurs, "Mmm? What?"

"I was watching you. That's why I hesitated. I was remembering the way you smelled earlier that night, the way you tasted of tobacco, and I was just a second too slow." Goh stares at the ceiling expressionlessly while he talks. "For a split second, I think I knew I'd been shot. And all I can remember thinking is that it wasn't the worst way to go, if you were the last thing I'd ever see."

He's never known how to react when Goh suddenly becomes serious, so he makes a half-hearted attempt to joke it off. "Are you saying it's my fault for distracting you?"

Goh shakes his head, then painfully slowly turns it in his direction. "No, I'm just trying to show you how much I love you."

"Idiot." Taki's voice is caught in his throat as he walks over on shaky legs.

He doesn't know what else to say. He was always the more sentimental one of the two of them, and this tone that Goh's voice has right now is not one he's used to dealing with. He guesses that Goh must be beginning to relive the incident at the Blue Carbuncle, and he realizes that he can't possibly relate. Goh had thought he had died; what the Hell do you say to something like that?

"How did we get out of there?" Goh breaks the silence, and Taki's guess is proven correct.

Taki turns away. His pacing finally brings him to the window. There are flowers and cards and baskets of fruit on the sill. He gazes outside because he can't bear to look at Goh while he's talking. It's hard enough to find the words, and to keep going.

His voice is so distorted by choked-up emotion that he almost doesn't recognize it himself. "I took down the thug with the gun. Kept the other pointed at the door to keep any others from entering. I thought about trying to escape with you but there was... there was too much blood coming out of your head. Shit, Goh, there was so much blood." He has to pause, close his eyes to shut out the memory, and take a deep breath before he can continue. "I didn't have to wait long. Before I even had a chance to call Hatozaki, the cops busted the place. Turns out Hatozaki's attempt to delay the raid failed. Their own team was working hard on the clues, just as we were, and it didn't take much longer for one of them to figure out where the drugs might be. Then the alarm system at the lounge's back door alerted the station as soon as we broke in. I turned off the power source but it didn't matter—the distress signal had already been transmitted. Once the team heard that the location of the drugs had just been broken into, Hatozaki couldn't stop them; because they were dealing with a case of an undercover cop, one of their own, they came in for the bust immediately. They didn't even wait for the warrant. Thankfully, Hatozaki was worried that shit was going to go down, so he came on the bust himself and had the foresight to have an ambulance on standby." His voice finally breaks. "…lucky. We got fucking lucky."

Taki leans his forehead against the window, hoping that the cool glass will distract him—prevent him from reliving the entire scene in his mind.

"I'm sorry." Goh's voice sounds precariously hoarse, too. "For making you worry."

Taki moves back to his bedside, clasping Goh's left hand in his own. Their fingers quickly intertwine. A shock races up Taki's spine as he realizes the implications of that action. Maybe there is no cause for worry after all...? Maybe I don't have any bad news to break? Trying to hide a sigh of relief at the sensation of warmth and motion in Goh's fingers as they rub lovingly against his own, he feels the tension drain out of his body at last.

Taki leans in and smiles down at his lover, his face tender and his eyes still vaguely sleep-fogged. Goh, too, looks slumberous, as he begins for the first time to emerge fully from his drug-induced sleep.

"How are you feeling?" he asks softly as he brushes a few loose strands of hair out of Goh's face with his other hand.

Goh smiles lazily, his expression not so different from when they lie together, basking in the afterglow of great sex. "Pretty good, actually. Surprisingly good. I'm really not dying, am I?"

Taki smiles back, grasping Goh's hand in both of his own and lifting it up to his cheek. "No, you're not."

They share a look, a moment of quite love and understanding. Taki nuzzles Goh's left hand. He smells a bit like hospital, like sterilized needles and morphine drips and starched white sheets, but underneath that, he's still the same old Goh. The faint scent of cigarettes and beer and oil to grease locks with seems to have become ingrained in the very fibers of his skin.

Goh tries to reach up to caress Taki's face with his right hand, and the tender look in his eyes is suddenly replaced by fear. "...Taki?"

It takes the other a second to notice the change. "Hmm? What's wrong?"

"Taki?" Goh's voice sounds panicked, and he's starting to breathe a little too fast. "Taki, I can't—"

"What?" Searching his boyfriend's face, Taki still can't place what suddenly has him so frazzled.

The normally-easygoing Goh is verging on hyperventilation; it takes him a second to form a coherent sentence.

Finally, he manages to choke out, "I can't move my right arm. I can't even feel my fingers. Taki?!"

Shit.

When it finally dawns on Taki, his expression break, and he starts to sob. "Goh... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Goh."

There are no polite greetings exchanged this time. They simply stare at Goh, sleeping in his hospital bed, through the large glass windowpanes separating the room from the hallway, until Taki chooses to break the silence.

"I take it you heard the news about his arm?" He's becoming callous to sympathetic words, and it reflects in the slightly cold, detached tone of his voice.

Hatozaki nods briefly. "I did. I'm very sorry. My apologies to the both of you." He pauses, then asks cautiously, "How did he take it?"

Taki sighs, shrugs. "After the initial shock... fairly well. But I don't think he's really given much thought to what this is really going to mean. For him. For us."

"You mean...?" The detective's demeanor is calm, but there is true puzzlement reflected in his eyes.

"Goh is right-handed. He's pretty agile with both arms, but his true deftness is still in the fingers of his right hand," Taki explains, his eyes never leaving the patient on the other side of the glass. "To some extent, rehabilitation is possible, but it'll take a while, and it'll never be as good as it was before. He'll never pick locks again."

"...Oh." Hatozaki's face is unreasonable, betraying nothing of what he is thinking.

Cops, doctors, even café owners—for a split second, Taki wonders if they all take the same crash course in blank expressions and poker faces. Would they teach him how they do it? These days, he can't seem to keep his own façade from crumbling, but he wants to be strong for Goh.

Eyes downcast to hide the traces of lingering tears, he concludes, "Sorry, Hatozaki, but it looks like we're going to have to give up the snatching business."

"The doctor says I'll probably be discharged on Tuesday."

Goh is sitting up in bed. Although he's only been allowed out in order to walk to the bathroom to relieve himself, he looks quite animated. When Kanji had visited earlier that day, he'd teased the boy in his usual manner. The playful, easygoing Goh is back—almost as if he'd never left. As if nothing had happened, nothing had changed.

Engrossed in the newspaper, Taki is working hard at pretending not to notice or be affected by the change in his partner. "Oh yeah?"

"About fucking time, I say." Goh whacks the side of the plastic bowl of soup with his spoon for emphasis like a petulant child.

"Mmmm." Taki still tries not to give in to his pseudo temper tantrum.

Goh just continues to babble like he's making up for lost time. "You'll cook for me, won't you, Taki? A true 'welcome home' meal. I'm so sick of this hospital slop."

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Taki gives in and plays along. "And I suppose you'd like meat."

"Yup! You know me." Goh is grinning from ear to ear.

You'd never know he's partially disabled.

"So I'm supposed to cook you meat even though I hate it?" Taki rolls his eyes again, feigning indignation.

Goh takes offense at Taki's supposed insouciance. "Hey, I'm the patient, you know? You're supposed to be nice to me, since I'm still pretty fragile and all."

They're spending their time arguing about the small things because sometimes, anything is better than having to discuss the Big Things, the ones that really matter, that change lives and relationships, for better or for worse. Their banter may be pointless, but it's safe and comfortable.

Taki never lifts his eyes from the newspaper in his hands. "Fragile, huh? So I guess that means no cigarettes, no booze, no sex..."

"Hey! I'm not that fragile! I'm pretty tough, you know." Goh scowls darkly, as though contorting his facial muscles to their limits is a legitimate display of physical prowess.

Taki is not impressed. "You're so full of it."

Goh turns his back to his lover and pretends to pout.

They sit in silence for a few more minutes, when Taki sighs, stands up, and tosses away the paper in frustration. "...You know, we can't avoid the topic forever, Goh."

"What are you talking about?" Goh's stopped pouting, although he still won't meet Taki's gaze directly.

Taki perches on the side of the bed, forcing Goh to meet his eyes. "About your arm."

"What about my arm? It's fine. I'm being discharged on Tuesday, remember?" Goh always has been better at pretending everything's okay when it's not, but over the years, Taki has learned to see through the easy, casual smiles and cheerful attitude.

He shakes his head and frowns. "Goh, we need to be serious here."

"I am being serious! I'm fine!" the other continues to argue.

Taki finally snaps, raising his voice more than he'd intended. "But you can't ever pick locks or be a snatcher again! You know that as well as I do."

He's certainly hit the nail on the head. Goh looks away, but the change in his expression is obvious. They're no longer playing pretend. There's real pain reflected in the set of his features.

Taki takes Goh's hand in his and softly pleads, "Goh, we need to talk about it."

"Fine, then talk!" Goh yells, exasperated.

"Fine!" Taki snaps back, then takes a breath and starts again, realizing that that's not the tone he means to take. "Well. I just want you to know... we're partners, you know? So if you have to quit the business, then I quit too, all right? No going solo, no finding other partners, nothing. We're in this together, Goh."

He leans in to kiss the other, but Goh still won't look his way, so he settles for a kiss on the cheek. Goh takes a minute to respond.

"Thank you, Taki. That's good to know." His voice sounds calm, but his expression is difficult to read.

Taki hopes that this is a sign that he can finally say what needs to be said. "But we have to find something else to do. That's the reality. We can't ignore it."

Goh is shaking his head. "We'll find something when the time comes."

Losing his patience, Taki is still determined that they're not going to avoid the conversation this time. "Goh, no, we have to—"

"—No, Taki, we don't have to." The force in his voice as he snaps his head back in the other's direction takes Taki by surprise. "Or rather, I can't. Not yet. Don't you understand? When the time comes, we'll deal with it. But not right now."

Goh no longer averts his eyes, and for the first time, Taki can see the raw pain he's been hiding there. He'd simply thought that Goh is being immature, too wrapped up in the concerns of the present to give too much consideration to those of the future, but he now realizes that he's been ripping at a wound that still hasn't had a chance to heal. By forcing the issue, he's only been causing his lover more pain.

He swallows once, twice, and looks away. "Fine then."

They settle into a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Taki slides off the bed, picks the newspaper up off the floor, sits back down in the chair he'd occupied prior to their argument, and resumes reading. Goh is staring at the ceiling.

Goh is the one who finally breaks the silence. "...Did you really mean that? About being in this together and all."

Taki is startled. He'd never expected Goh to bring up the topic again on his own.

"I did," he answers carefully, trying to coax Goh to continue the conversation.

Goh only responds with, "Okay."

"All right," Taki says, wondering if Goh has anything else to add.

But Goh is silent and remains that way for most of the rest of the day.

They don't bother with greetings when Tsunuga opens the door to his small townhouse. The older man simply nods and moves out of the way to let Taki inside.

"I'm glad you came," Tsunuga remarks as Taki removes his shoes. "You look like you needed to get out of that hospital."

Tsunuga disappears into the kitchen, leaving the younger man to make his way to the living room on his own. As he takes a seat on the sofa and settles into the cushions, the familiar aroma of home-brewed coffee and the clink of porcelain cups are as familiar to Taki as the back of his own hand.

It had taken a few months after Taki and Goh's return from their honeymoon for both Taki and Tsunuga to agree to see each other. Neither of them knew exactly how to resume their relationship. Having had guns pointed at each other's heads had put them in a fairly awkward position in regard to one another. Spending some time apart had helped, but starting again was never easy.

Tsunuga, arguably the more remorseful of the two, had finally been the one to take the initiative. Through Mimi, he'd sent Taki a message inviting him over for coffee. Just coffee.

The conversation had been strained at first, as was to be expected. But both of them did feel like it was necessary to make the attempt, and when Taki finished his second mug and apologized for having to leave, Tsunuga had promptly invited him to come visit again next weekend. Just for coffee. Taki had gratefully accepted.

Over time, conversation grew easier and more relaxed. Taki was finally able to relate to Tsunuga the entire tale of his childhood encounter with his daughter, and Tsunuga was finally able to learn some of the answers he'd been searching for for so long. When that tale was exhausted, Tsunuga began to speak of his daughter, about his brief time with her and his fears and apprehensions for her future. Taki, in turn, began to reveal some of his thoughts about his relationship with Goh.

In doing so, the old man found in Taki the son he'd never had, and Taki found in Tsunuga a true friend and confidante. Taki was probably the most changed by their weekly coffee dates. Having previously never been one to talk about his personal affairs and emotions, for the first time in his life, he was learning how to express his feelings, especially those for Goh.

"So, how is he?" Tsunuga asks when he returns, a tray of coffee and pastries in his hands. "And how are you?"

He sits down in the chair opposite Taki's—his usual seat.

"I don't know. I really don't know." Shaking his head, even Taki himself isn't sure which question he is responding to. "I'm supposed to be the one who knows him best, but I can't tell what's going on in his mind right now—damn it."

Tsunuga calmly tries to rationalize the situation as he doles out the cups of coffee and treats. "He's had a couple of major shocks. I think it's not too surprising. Anyone's going to have a hard time relating to exactly what he's going through."

Taki takes a few sips but finds himself too agitated to distract himself with the drink. "But he won't really talk to me, damn it. And this is Goh we're talking about. He's never really been the one to keep things bottled up inside. If something's really bothering him, he'll come right out and say it. That's one of the things I admired in him. But it's like... he has this dark look in his eyes, and all his smiles seem strained, and he won't have a serious conversation with me. And I don't know what's going on inside his head."

"Just be patient with him, Taki," the former café owner shushes him, trying to set the example by taking leisurely, carefully-measured sips. "Goh has a lot to sort out for himself and he's probably already spent a lot of time trying to figure out what all to tell you. It isn't easy, you know."

Setting the coffee down, Taki shakes his head, rests his forehead in his hands, and rubs his temples. "I just... I don't know. I can't help feeling something's wrong. I might just be insecure, but..."

Tsunuga pauses halfway through a lemon tart. "What do you think is wrong, then, Taki?"

"I." Sitting up, Taki starts to say something but finds he has a hard time articulating his thoughts. "I guess I'm afraid that he might want to leave me, now that things can no longer be as they were. He's never been the type to settle down in one place too long, and he was always kind of a playboy, even when he was making passes at me and I was resisting. He'd date around, flirt with our clients, seduce our targets—as long as they were male and young and attractive, it didn't really matter."

"Has he done that since you two got together?" The older man's reasonable logic is almost irritating.

Taki knows there's no reason not to be honest. "Well, no. But then, he hasn't exactly had a chance to be bored. Our job has kept us so busy and active. But now that we have to give that up... well, I wouldn't be surprised if he feels constrained and, as a result, his eyes start roaming. I wouldn't even hold it against him—Goh always did live for the excitement and the thrill. And now I can no longer give him that."

He waits anxiously for a response while the old man finished his lemon tart and takes another few sips of coffee. He hasn't touched his own pastry; he can't muster an appetite for sweet things right now.

At last, Tsunuga resumes speaking. "I think you're thinking this all wrong. Your life of violence and action isn't the only thing binding you and Goh together, Taki. But you're too wrapped up in your own fear of abandonment to realize it. It seems that the circumstances of your past have led you to believe that nothing in this world is permanent. Yet if you opened up your eyes long enough to have a good look around, I think you'd be surprised..."

"But there really are very few things in life that last." Taki feels sure of that much, at least.

Tsunuga cocks his head, his gaze curious and vaguely challenging. "Do you think that really is the case, or is that partly because of the world you have created around you?"

Taki doesn't see where the old man is going. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not pretending to be privy to your thoughts," Tsunuga poses the disclaimer before continuing, "but I get the impression that you've been using your violent life as an excuse to surrender yourself to Goh—because 'tomorrow it might be over; we might get killed, so I might as well give myself to him one last time'. Why can't you start thinking that, whether or not there is a gun aimed at your head, maybe this one thing might actually last—that your relationship with Goh is here to stay? After all, you've been together for well over three years now. Is it really so difficult to accept that some things in life are permanent?"

Taki stares blankly back at him, trying to take in all the implications of what was just said. Well, that was slightly unexpected. Taki knows and trusts Tsunuga well enough not to take offense at his criticism, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept.

Watching the young man wrestle with the concept in his mind, Tsunuga regrets throwing him for a loop and decides to take another approach. "Okay, different question. Do you love him, Taki?"

This time, Taki doesn't hesitate a moment. "You know I do."

"Then there you go," Tsunuga concludes, as though that ought to explain everything.

Taki blinks and almost forgets to watch the mug of hot coffee in his hands. "What?"

"That's the answer. The only answer you should need." Tsunuga smiles enigmatically and leaves it at that.

No one says a word during the drive from the hospital back to the apartment. With Goh partially disabled and Taki psychologically unstable, Hatozaki is at the wheel. He has not remarked on the silence, perhaps regarding it as the normally talkative couple's coping mechanism. Or else, he's pretending to be unaware of the uneasiness between them.

Goh is staring out of the rear passenger window, a dark and pensive look on his face. Taki sends periodic glances in his direction, but Goh shows no sign of noticing. The two have not had a real conversation for days. Taki has made a few attempts to which Goh was repeatedly unresponsive. The day before, he'd even pulled away when Taki had tried to kiss him on the lips. Taki's heart still aches dully at the memory.

For the first time, Taki thinks that Tsunuga may have been incorrect about his assessment of the situation. Even if he's trying to work through a stressful situation, Goh doesn't seem the type to close himself off so completely. And to reject Taki's touch? He shivers and has to force himself to think of other things. The current state of things is just too painful.

Hatozaki deposits them at their front door, apologizing for having to depart again so quickly, but he is due back at the office in twenty minutes. Taki feels numb as he pushes the key into the lock. He himself has only been here briefly since the incident, to pick up some clothes and toiletries. He hadn't been able to bear staying for more than a few minutes. It wasn't their house if Goh wasn't perched on the couch, smoking a cigarette as he made some dirty innuendo at Taki's expense. The door looks strange and foreign as he pushes it open.

"Home sweet home," he whispers as he and Goh enter, but the words seem hollow and devoid of meaning.

After taking off his shoes, Taki goes straight to the kitchen. Mimi and Kanji had taken care of the place in their absence, filling the refrigerator with fresh groceries in preparation for their coming. There's a pot on the stove with homemade curry. Taki heats it up and prepares the rice while Goh sits down at the kitchen table and begins to sort through the mail.

Ten minutes later, the smell of curry wafts through the apartment. Taki sits down at the table and begins to serve the food, giving Goh a far larger portion than himself. Goh says nothing, and when he looks up, Taki notices that Goh is going through the bills that have accumulated in their absence.

Funny. They've both been so absorbed in other things that they had forgotten about mundane matters like bills and money.

"Don't worry, I'll still pay my half of the rent this month while I look for an apartment." The words are out before Taki's ever completely made up his mind to say them.

For just a beat, the house is completely still. Even the molecules of air seem to hesitate.

Then Goh slams his good hand down on the table, his expression confused and angry. "What the Hell are you talking about, Taki?"

"What?" Taki asks nonchalantly, although he's never been good at pretending to be unaffected.

Goh opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking almost comical and fish-like, as he searches for words. "I thought—I mean, you said yourself that we're partners, even if that means that the snatching days are over for both of us." He pauses and suddenly looks hurt. "If you changed your mind, why didn't you tell me?"

Taki rests his head in his hands, trying to find the best way to explain his reasoning even though he feels like he's betraying his own heart.

"This isn't about me, Goh. Don't you understand?" As he looks up, there are tears in his eyes but he ploughs on anyway. "You try to hide it so well but I can tell, Goh. Having to give up this lifestyle—it hurts you. There's a good portion of your life that you're going to have to rebuild from scratch, and I don't want to be here as a constant reminder of the things that you loved that you've had to give up. You need to rebuild, and I don't want to be a... a burden."

Silence again descends upon the house for a fleeting moment. Taki tries to stifle a sob, while the look on Goh's face is indescribable.

"You. Fucking. Moron." Goh vehemently spits out the words. "You don't seem to understand, so I'll explain it to you. Losing the snatching life might have been a blow, but it's nothing compared to losing you. My biggest fear when I found out about the injury was that you'd call off the partnership and go off on your own. It's the ones that get left behind who are sad, remember? I can choose another profession, but I don't want any other partner—any other lover—in my life but you. Not now, not ever. I may be confused about everything else right now, but of this much, I am certain.

"I want to have dinner with you just like this and have a normal conversation about something other than the number of times in the past week that we've had guns pointed at our heads. I want to be able to go and shop for groceries and know that there's no risk of you being kidnapped when I'm briefly away from home. I want a job with a schedule and a boss, just so I can call in sick every now and then in order to stay home and look at you and make love. I may not be the type of guy for cubicles and nine-to-five and white picket fences, but we've lived the fast life, and now I'm ready to try the simple things. That is, if you're with me."

Goh stops there, and Taki's never seen him look more serious and determined in his life.

"...Shit. Idiot." He cusses because he doesn't know what else to say to a face like that. "If you can say things like that, why don't you just become a fucking writer?"

Goh finally smiles, then, a reflection of his old self shining through the serious visage. "Because these words are only meant for you. I don't want you to have to share them with anyone else."

There are no words, simply a quickened heartbeat in his chest and tears clouding his vision. Taki cannot think of a single thing to say, but Goh seems to understand without words. He reaches his good hand across the table and grasps Taki's with it.

He's still smiling, but this isn't the easygoing, playful Goh—there's no doubt that his words are sincere. "Don't you see? Won't you believe? I'm not leaving, and I'm not gonna' let you leave me. I love you too damn much."

Taki finally lets out the sob he's been holding inside for days now, and Goh wipes up the single tear that rolls down Taki's cheek with his finger.

He then grins as he grabs his chopsticks. "Now, let's eat. I'm starving."

Still somewhat dazed, Taki watches in amazement as the scene abruptly transforms from a rare, poignantly sentimental tableau to a normal, everyday setting, with Goh hungrily wolfing down his curry like a boy who's just hit puberty. Picking at his own food, as he still can't muster a substantial appetite, Taki can't help but smile at the sight. It's comforting to know that some things don't change.

All of a sudden, it begins to dawn on him what Tsunuga was trying to say. Some things don't change—not only Goh's appetite, but his love as well. So why is he still fighting it?

Being able to say "I love you" with confidence is an important step, but love isn't only about giving. Sometimes you have to take, too. He's always viewed love as surrendering himself to Goh, but it's high time for him to fully accept and take Goh's love in return.

"Thank you, Tsunuga," he whispers, eyes closed.

Then, without a word of warning, he rises, walks over to Goh's side of the table, and seats himself in Goh's lap, wrapping his arms around his lover's neck while he presses their lips together. Though surprised, Goh makes no move to resist this time, answering every motion with an equally passionate response. Bruising lips, swirling tongues—give and take, give and take.

When at last they break the kiss, Goh is forced to catch his breath before he can manage to speak. "Well, this is unusual."

"Why?" Taki smiles, the last clouds of pain, doubt, and fear having finally faded from his eyes. "I love you Goh, And I believe you. I believe you. I do.

"You'll be here tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. And I'm not leaving you, either. Ever.

"So I want to make love to you—not because I'm afraid that tomorrow everything will fall apart, but because I know it won't. Because we'll still be here, and I love you, Goh. So let's make love."

Taki is already pulling Goh to his feet, the half-eaten meal already forgotten.

As they make their way toward the bedroom, casually discarding articles of clothing along the way, Goh flashes a playful grin between kisses. "A man's not gonna' say no to that."

The descent to the bed is clumsy and hasty. Taki has been so wrapped up in his own anxieties that he wasn't aware of how his skin hungered for Goh's hot touch all this time. But despite the frenzied touching, they are both moved by an overwhelming sense of tenderness the likes of which they haven't experienced since their first time together.

With Goh's arm disabled, Taki finds himself having to take more of a guiding role than he is used to, but he discovers that he is more than ready for it. As he lowers himself onto his lover, the initial pain already as much a part of his existence as breathing, he feels a surge of confidence and elation, knowing that this is not simply a surrender. It's the assertion of something breathtaking, and the beginning of so much more.

Eyes heavy from the afterglow, Taki rests his head in the curve of Goh's neck and shoulder. They've had to do a little repositioning to find new sleeping poses that are comfortable for both of them. The risks associated with putting too much weight on his paralyzed arm mean that for Goh, sleeping on his side is out of the question. Instead, he now lies on his back, with Taki spooning himself against Goh's left side. Goh's good arm is draped around his back, while his own left arm lies across Goh's torso, his fingers tracing circles over the lean muscles of Goh's chest. Goh breathes against his hair, the air warm and soothing.

Taki briefly wonders what they will need to do to reinvent their world tomorrow and finds that he is no longer afraid.

"I could get used to this," he whispers slowly.

Goh's voice, too, is lazy with sleep. "Does that mean I can kiss you in public now?"

Taki rolls his eyes and smiles. "Idiot. I'll punch you."

Additional Notes: The whole plot device with the bullet and the aneurysm and the paralysis of the arm is something I filched from Grey's Anatomy, so it seems to be possible, although it's possible I got some of the details wrong. Anyway, just bear in mind that I am NOT a medical school student and stuff related to medicine is not any specialty of mine. Plus, anything goes in Yaoiland, so I hope you can take it all with a grain of salt.

Thanks for reading!