Designated Driver

SUMMARY: It's New Year's Eve on the Kukai Foundation. When Jr. cuts loose, chaos cuts him off. Now the poor seraph must carry the U.R.T.V. home…without Jr.'s drunken escapades driving chaos to drink!

GENRE: Humor/Drama
RATED
: PG-13 / T
NOTABLE CONTENT
: Alcohol Usage, Mild Language, and Suggestive Humor

COPYRIGHT NOTE: I don't own Xenosaga
STORY TAKES PLACE IN
: Generally in Xenosaga: Episode I with references to Episode II

COMMENTS: Because I think it's cute when chaos gives Jr. a piggyback ride. ^.^

More or less, this is just a silly little one-shot. I've grown a small admiration for Jr. and chaos' friendship, so I wanted to take a crack (though I'm hoping this fanfic won't turn out as crack/crap ^_^;;). Typical warnings apply to this story as with my typical U.R.T.V. comedies: this fic has a blend of funnies with some serious themes. There are also brief innuendos for a few pairings (het & slash), but there aren't any real romances in this fanfic. Enjoy!


Designated Driver

Aiselne Nocturnus


Hic!

Fourteen years ago came an evening as dark as oblivion, long past midnight. The only sources of illumination came from the cracking lightning, the inferno-consumed buildings, and the highbeams of E.S. Asher. Howls of madness and booms of ammunition became muffled by rain, Heaven's futile effort to extinguish the hell once called Miltia. It was there in the pit of Labyrinthos' remains where chaos hoisted a twelve-year-old boy onto his back.

Hic!

The child's lachrymose hiccups tugged each one of chaos' heartstrings. Barely conscious enough to sob for his fallen comrades, the exhausted redhead hung his tear-reddened face into the crook of chaos' neck. Then it was the silver-haired seraph's duty to bring Rubedo home.

Hic!

Fourteen years later – tonight – was a similar night.

…Somewhat.

Hic!

Tonight was another dark evening, long past midnight. The only sources of illumination came from the countless neon signs and streetlights of the Kukai Foundation's Sector 26. Howls of drunkards and booms of jukeboxes became muffled by fireworks, the Durandal's metropolis celebrating New Year's Eve with great guns of fire. It was there outside the rowdy Ironman bar where chaos hoisted a seemingly twelve-year-old boy onto his back.

Hic!

Only this time around, Jr. was hiccupping for a very different reason.

"Daaaaaaammn! New Year, that waztha the best chaos party evarr!"

Rolling translucent eyes, chaos resisted a smirk and just shook his head. Jr. had been sputtering nonsense for the past ten minutes, one of the many reasons why chaos decided to take the drunken Little Master back home.

Naturally, chaos was accustomed to being a designated driver. The silver-haired teen rarely drank over his limit. Although more than old enough to drink, chaos was not a heavy drinker, namely because he could not afford to be a lush. He usually had to stay sober enough to get his inebriated Elsa crewmates back to their ship. Matthews, Tony, and Hammer were still wasting away the night back at Ironman, but chaos was particularly concerned about Jr. Although twenty-six years in mind, Jr.'s twelve-year-old body did not bode well with alcohol, and chaos never wished ill on his best friend.

Worse off, it did not take much effort for Jr. to become drunk, and it certainly did not take much time for him to act drunk. By the time Jr.'s cheeks matched his red hair, the intoxicated U.R.T.V. no longer believed he was in a Foundation bar, but in a Wild West salon! chaos made damn certain to confiscate the cowboy's Makarovs before a shooting gallery ensued. But just before chaos believed Jr. was drunk yet harmless…

"Oh, Jr.! You drank too much, didn't you? Don't worry. I'll get you some food and water. That should help."

Dear, sweet little MOMO Mizrahi. It was a shame the kind-hearted Realian spent more time assisting her drunken friends, rather than enjoying the New Year's festivities. Across the Ironman, MOMO served enough food and water to rival the bar's employees. And when it came to Jr., the pink-haired girl rushed as fast as her feet permitted.

Unfortunately, therein laid the problem. After all, the rowdy night led to dozens of drunkards slamming dozens of shot glasses, while dozens more people chugged alcohol until it spilled all over, and countless glasses were knocked over by rowdy lushes. Impossible for busboys to keep up, the Ironman's floors were polished with moonshine. Even MOMO's boots failed against the slippery floors, sending the hasty girl to her hands and knees. 100-Series were too tough to be hurt by a simple fall.

But the problem did not lie in the fall, itself, but in the way MOMO landed after falling. In order to leave Jr. to gather food and water, MOMO naturally had to turn her back to him. More (if not too) naturally, falling front-first on hands and knees rendered MOMO's backside momentarily showcased. Now, why Joachim Mizrahi insisted on designing little girl Realians in littler skirts was beyond chaos' wisdom. And too shit-faced to know better, Jr. enjoyed a quick slice of peach pleasure that the twenty-six-year-old man rarely savored. Fortunately, MOMO did not seem to notice Jr.'s leering.

However, somebody else did notice Jr.'s leering. Too bad for the stupidly-smiling Little Master, he just-so-happened to be sitting across from someone who was none too pleased to see Peeping Tom ogling MOMO's exposed underwear. Like a missile locked on target, the man's blue eyes narrowed, his frown darkened, and he flexed his strong mechanical hand. If Ziggy's looks could kill, Gaignun Kukai Jr. would be dead (and buried) right now.

Hence, chaos grabbed Jr. and got the hell out of there, thus leading to the seraph's current fiasco.

"Yeeehaaw! Go, chaos! Ride into the sunset!"

"Jr., it's the middle of the night," chaos corrected, wondering how drunk a person had to be to see a nonexistent sunset. Then again, chaos wondered why in U-DO's name he wasted his breath attempting to rationalize with an inebriated kid. chaos could tell Jr. the sky was made of chocolate and the redhead would probably stick his tongue into the air to taste it. But chaos considered this nonsense to be a small price to pay. Jr. reverting back to his drunken cowboy stage was ten times safer than him peeking up girls' skirts again.

Shifting the U.R.T.V.'s weight to maintain his hold, chaos continued his piggybacking trek down Sector 26's cobblestone sidewalks. The designated driver actually wished he had a vehicle to drive, but all vehicles were prohibited from the festival grounds. Safe driving was nearly impossible on account of so many people, children, and vendors lined along the streets. There was the risk of drunk driving, too. chaos always preferred to err on the side of caution, and he commended the Kukai Foundation's precautions.

"Yeeehaaaaww!"

Still, chaos would be lying if he claimed he enjoyed being cowboy Jr.'s horse!

"Faster, chaos! Yah! Go fasterrr!"

chaos could not stifle a sudden yelp, but he chose to bite his tongue and ignore Jr.'s obnoxious "Yah! Yah!" egging his horse to run faster via kicks in chaos' ribs. Albeit sober, chaos had his share of celebratory drinks and snacks at the Ironman. Having the heels of Jr.'s boots dig into chaos' gut certainly did not settle the teenager's stomach. chaos just hoped he could reach the Durandal before he got sick, or worse, before Jr. got sick all over chaos!

"Gaaaah! You're too slooow, chaos," the U.R.T.V. slurred his complaint, realizing chaos would not carrying him any faster. Much to chaos' relief, Jr.'s kicks relented, though the redhead's brain was far from any level of clarity. "Dammut, chaos. At this pace, we'll neverrr catch up to the train! That sunuvabitch's got MOMO! We gotta' save her from his gang'a Kirschwassers!"

Knowing it best not to ask questions, chaos just arched a silver eyebrow and sweatdropped. "You really should lay off the western movies, Jr.," the teenager muttered, not that the drunken cowboy overheard. Granted, Jr.'s mind tended to live in the Wild West when he was not three sheets to the wind, but tonight was excessive even for the gunslinger.

Besides, MOMO was safe back at the Ironman, and knowing Ziggy, he would keep an extra-sharp eye on her after Jr.'s stunt. The U.R.T.V. should consider himself fortunate that MOMO would not see his current display of incredibly poor maturity and self-control. Although, chaos was relieved that Jr. cooled his hormones and reverted back to typically wondering about his precious Realian's wellbeing. There was something to be said for a man who worried about a girl even when he was punch-drunk.

Nevertheless, chaos had to be the rational person. "Furthermore, you should lay off the beer. I think you had a little too much."

Scrunching his reddened face like a brat, Jr. proudly retorted, "Nuh-uh! I hadda' LOT too much!"

chaos could not disagree with his friend's understatement. "No kidding."

"Meanie," pouted the redhead, his words enough to cause chaos to snort back a chuckle. It was not everyday that chaos heard his little friend talk like a damn baby, and knowing Jr.'s ego, he would be embarrassed as hell to unearth tonight's behavior(s). Luckily for the U.R.T.V., chaos was too nice a guy to utilize blackmail.

But alcohol overrode Jr.'s ego. Such was the only explanation for why Jr. inexplicably started poking with chaos' hair, much like a girl pretending to be a hairdresser with a doll. Innocently fiddling with chaos' locks, Jr. stared at the hair as if he just found actual silver. "How do ya get your hair like this, anyway, chaos?"

Caught off guard by the random question, chaos blinked and shrugged nonchalantly. "This is how my hair has always been, Jr."

The drunk U.R.T.V. seemed surprised, getting another look at chaos' silky hair color. "Natural?"

In a matter of speaking, chaos knew, but instead said, "Mine's as natural as your hair's particular shade of red," which looked closer to ruby than any "natural" redhead.

"Nah, yer hair's prettier," countered Jr., continuing to childishly stroke the teenager's silvery hair. "This color's toooo nice for real. It's all shiny like wings…" he suddenly paused, before resting his head against the back of chaos'. Slurring like there was no tomorrow, the U.R.T.V. wondered whimsically, "Unlessss…are you a angel, chaos?"

chaos wondered how in heaven's name Jr. could be so drunk yet so correct at the same time. Still, now was not the time for chaos to explain the complexities of his life with a drunken little boy. Instead, the teenager changed the subject to lighter moods.

A small tease pulling his lips, chaos chuckled, "Are you hitting on me, Jr.?"

"When'd I hit ya, chaoss?" There was even a pint of concern in Jr.'s slur.

Rolling eyes again, chaos just smiled to himself. "Never mind, Jr. Never mind."

There was no point trying to talk sense to anybody this evening, because the vast majority of the Kukai Foundation was under some influence. Those who were sober had their minds on the celebration, caring little about anything else. Tonight was a night for fun and no worries. New Year's Eve came but once a year, after all.

No doubt, the wealthy Kukai Foundation celebrated extravagantly. Rainbows of fireworks speckled the sky, and various flags, streamers, garlands, and balloons decorated streets, buildings, and even rooftops. So many scents of food, liquor, and other pleasant aromas filled chaos' nostrils.

But of course, the Kukai Foundation's pièce de résistance was Jr.'s pride and joy, the Durandal. It was near impossible to ignore her multicolored centerpiece shimmering over the center's glistening water. As intended, the red dreadnaught could be seen from all over the foundation.

"In't she beautiful, chaos?" The teenager perked upon hearing Jr.'s voice, somewhere between a gush and another slur. Both boys admiring the Durandal's centerpiece, chaos nodded his agreement. It seemed that Jr. was not drunk enough to ignore his beloved ship, either. After another hiccup, the redhead gazed at his warship with a goofy grin. "Doorandal's my baby, yup! Yup! Birthed her myself!"

The toe of chaos' left boot tripped over an invisible crack in the sidewalk. After two stumbles forward, chaos managed to catch his balance before kissing cobblestone. Fortunately for chaos, the bumpy ride only amused Jr. The drunken boy held onto chaos' collar with one hand while punching the air with his opposite fist, hooting another "Yeehaaw!" like a cowboy on a bucking bronco. If only chaos were so easily amused.

Being the smart one, chaos decided not to over-analyze Jr.'s second-to-last babble. True, chaos understood what Jr. meant to say about the Durandal – Or, Please tell me he meant to say, "'Built' her myself," chaos prayed wholeheartedly – but even chaos could not deny that Jr.'s drunken word-choice was just…wrong.

Wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible, the semi-recomposed chaos shook his head before continuing onward. At the very least, Jr.'s mind seemed to have left the Wild West and returned to his home planet. Thus, chaos just humored the boy and continued towards the shuttles. "That's nice, Jr. You'll be happy to know I'm taking you back to the Durandal right now."

But much to chaos' misfortune, Jr. did not take the news as chaos expected. "Nuh-uh!" the boy countered, yanking a tuff of chaos' silver hair much like gripping the reigns of a horse. Jr. obviously had not left the Wild West just yet. If he were not so self-composed, chaos would have erupted in a Jr.-style tirade of obscenities. The said redhead was too drunk to notice how badly he kept abusing his poor friend. "I won't do that if I was you, chaos."

Blinking back involuntary tears, chaos jerked his head to free his hair from Jr.'s unsteady grip. Daring to ask, "What're you talking about, Jr.?" he voiced with a small twinge of irritation, barely noticeable to the untrained ear. "Look, it's late, and the Durandal is the best place for you right now," or me, chaos added. The Elsa was currently docked on the Durandal, and chaos could not wait to retire to his cabin. He just prayed Matthews, Tony, and Hammer found other unfortunate souls to act as designated drivers. Knowing Allen's luck in attracting Shion, the deputy chief would be available tonight. "I'm taking you home right now."

"But-b-but!" the boy began sputtering like an actual kid. "But Gaignun'll get mad!"

chaos did not intend to be a tattle, but he did believe Gaignun Kukai had every right to be angry with his so-called son's behavior. Jr. deserved punishment, though chaos had a feeling the boy's inevitable hangover would be punishment enough.

Sighing, the seraph spoke matter-of-factly. "Jr., if you're worried about Gaignun's disapproval of your drinking, you should have thought of that sooner."

"No, not thaat!" Jr. attempted to communicate, though his drunken communication skills left an awful lot to be desired. Snickering like an immature child reading a naughty magazine, the redhead defied any evidence of his actual age. "Heheh-hic! Naw, Gaignun'll get pissy if we interrupt his night with Mary n' Shelley!"

Jr. was two seconds away from falling flat on his ass, but chaos managed to regain himself and not accidentally drop the boy. While the drunken U.R.T.V. giggled hiccups, the blushing chaos shook his head, attempting to evict dirty mental pictures of Gaignun and the Godwins. Suddenly, chaos no longer wanted to look at the Durandal, in fear of 'what' might be going on in there.

Disturbed, and a tad disgusted, the silver-haired teen unwillingly swallowed a spoonful of too much information. "Jr., please!"

"Wha?" Jr. teased, noticing his friend's sheepishness. "Aaw, didn't anyone tell ya bout' the birds and bees, chaos? It's when a guy and a girl fall in love an' rip off each other's clothes–"

"I know about sex, Jr." All of a sudden, the fervently blushing chaos was missing Jr.'s cowboy fetish.

"You do?" As if astonished, Jr.'s glazed eyes widened in amazement. Then came the redhead's vicious smirk that always told chaos he better run for cover. One slap against the back sent chaos stumbling forward again. "chaos, you DOG!" Jr. practically screamed as though he wanted the whole foundation to hear. "Way to go, buddy! Who's the lucky girl?"

After being sent various odd looks from sober pedestrians, chaos wished he had a rock to crawl under. Suddenly heeding Jr.'s earlier requests to run faster, the teenager picked up his pace. chaos wanted to dump Jr. on the Durandal as quickly as possible, and then hide on the Elsa. "Jr., please! I didn't mean it like that."

Too drunk to know otherwise, Jr. grinned like a madman, noticing chaos' embarrassed face. It was uncommon to see chaos act so flustered. Leaning forward against chaos' back, the redhead began to poke his friend's flushed cheeks. "You're blushing, chaos! Blu-ssshing!" he spelt-out, making chaos' cheeks to tint deeper. "I know! I'll bet it waz KOS-MOS!"

For the second time that night, chaos nearly tripped. "Uh-of course not."

"Daaw! Admit it, chaos!" Jr. continued cooing, mirroring a gushy girl at a sleepover party. "You've been ooogling that android since you first laid her on eyes!"

Not liking the particular way that last line was worded, chaos desperately tried to change the subject. His legs could not move quickly enough to the Durandal's shuttles. "Jr., I'll quote you in saying it's not like that, okay?"

"Not that I blame you or nothing." Apparently, Jr. was not quite done badgering his friend. Even sober, the U.R.T.V. was one-track-minded. "Androids aren't my cup of tea, but KOS-MOS is still hot! Shion built KOS-MOS the perrrfect figure," he insinuated, igniting another roster of naughty images in chaos' recently-cleaned mind. "She's stacked, too!"

If it were virtually impossible for chaos' face to be redder than that of his drunken friend, then the teenager just defied the laws of physics. Granted, Jr.'s declaration about KOS-MOS' physique was not necessarily a lie, but… "I really don't want to be having this conversation, Jr."

Jr., on the other hand, "Although, if KOS-MOS' an android, would that mean they're fake? What'd Shion use to make em'?" Furrowing his brow for a brief tangent of intoxicated contemplation, the boy then shrugged defeatedly. "Figurezz. Jugs that perfect couldn't possibly be real."

A nearby brick wall was looking mighty appealing for chaos to bash his head. "Jr., I really, really don't want to be talking about this."

"Not that I'm judging ya or nothing, buddy!" the boy weakly defended. "Whateverrr makes you happiee! I prefer real ones, though."

For one split second, the blushing chaos paused and eyed his plastered little friend. In chaos' favor, Jr.'s stupor came in handy, preventing the proud boy from noticing his friend's sly murmur. "Are you in a position to be picky, Jr.?"

More oblivious than usual, Jr. focused solely on his leering friend's expression. Much to the redhead's amusement, chaos was still blushing up a storm (more fervently than before). Loving the uncommonly impish expression across his typically-nonchalant buddy, Jr. burst into hiccup-riddled laughs.

"Haha! I've never, e-ver seen you blush so much, chaos! You're acting lika' total girl! It's sooo cuuuute!" Though chaos hardly believed his drunken pal was one to be talking about effeminacy at the moment. "And hey, that's a helluva girl ya got there. I'll bet KOS-MOS rocks! If her X-Buster is any indication of how good she is, then hot DAMN! How the hell do ya walk the next day?"

As KOS-MOS might say, there was a 99.9998% probability chaos would vomit before Jr.'s hangover began. "Jr.!"

"But I'm soo, sooo happy for ya, buddy!" Jr. jubilantly cried, immediately dumping all his weight forward to envelope chaos in a tight backwards hug. Albeit sweet, Jr.'s bear hug happened to wrap around his friend's neck, inadvertently choking poor chaos. Burying half his face into chaos' silky hair, Jr.'s tipsy smile brightened via inebriated bliss. "Believe me, chaos, there's nooothing more wonderful than being one with someone!"

Matters (and mental pictures) skyrocketing from bad to worse (much worse), the silver-haired seraph nearly flew the rest of the way to the Durandal.


chaos was never so happy to step aboard the Durandal, his boots echoing through quiet red corridors of the Residential Area. With more exciting attractions outside on the foundation grounds, few crewmembers stayed on the ship. A handful of 100-Series Realians eagerly assisted their drunk Little Master to his room, chaos specifically avoiding Gaignun's room for dear life. The teenager could have sworn he heard Jr. immaturely snort something about how "100-Series" rhymes with "panties," but the U.R.T.V. passed out before anything else ensued. Lucky boy.

Once the troublesome redhead was nestled in his bed, the blue-haired Realians entrusted their dear Little Master to his angelic guardian. Assuming it might be a while before Jr. regained consciousness, chaos sat at the edge of the bed. Considering tonight's hoopla, chaos happily savored this brief moment of solitude. Tranquility was a rare find whenever it came to someone as rambunctious as Jr.

Although, despite his headache, chaos could not dissuade a soft smile pulling his lips. Shaking his head, the teen stole a glance at his snoozing buddy. In some ways, chaos wished he were as bold as his friend. Jr.'s drunken antics proposed perfect blackmail for a rainy day, but chaos was too nice for his own good. Still, it would be fun to see Jr.'s face upon realizing how much of an ass he made of himself tonight.

Nevertheless, it was New Year's Eve, and everyone deserved some fun.

Boom!

Blinking, chaos perked towards the suite's panoramic windows. Behind closed curtains came a multi-colored glow coupled with multiple booms. chaos recognized the fireworks' grand finale. The Kukai Foundation rarely scrimped expenses, and via past years, chaos knew the fireworks' finale was truly awe-inspiring. It made chaos feel sorry that Jr. was unable to watch the beautiful show.

Boom! Boom!

Hic!

Perking once more, chaos tore aqua eyes away from the windows back to Jr.'s bed. Much to chaos' surprise, the assumed-unconscious boy's body hiccup-twitched. Jr. was probably going in and out of consciousness, and chaos assumed one of two events would follow. Either Jr. would fall back asleep or get sick.

Figuring it best to prepare for the worst, the teenager rose from his seat and approached the small wastepaper bin next to Jr.'s nightstand. A few crumpled balls of paper rolled along the bottom of the metal basket, but the canister would suffice if needed.

Returning to the bed, chaos leaned over the side to see if his friend had indeed regained consciousness. His left hand holding the bin, chaos' right hand gently rubbed the U.R.T.V.'s shoulder. "Jr.?"

When there came no response, chaos relaxed momentarily.

Boom!

"Mmmrhh."

When there came a response, chaos tensed immediately. "Jr.?"

As if his mind were full of sand, Jr. bobbed his head from one side of his pillow to another. The boy was apparently starting to pay the price for this evening's celebrating. Then again, considering the Elsa men's track record, chaos suspected Jr. would be in good company. But before tending to his teammates, chaos wanted to make sure his red-haired friend would be okay. chaos did not like to prioritize his friends, but he was realistic, too. Matthews, Tony, and Hammer might have been chaos' crew, but none of them possessed twelve-year-old bodies.

"…c-chay-offs?"

It was difficult for chaos not to chuckle at Jr.'s sloppiness. But considering Jr. was no longer sputtering nonsense about underpants, cowboys, sex, or breasts, chaos counted his blessings. Continuing to rub the boy's shoulder, chaos whispered gently. "You're home. Just rest now, okay, Jr.?"

Of what chaos could decipher, Jr. seemed to relax, cuing chaos to do the same.

Boom! Boom!

"Mmrrwearhraydo? He. Nokay?"

Blinking curiously, chaos came closer to hear, near enough to smell the excessive liquor on Jr.'s breath. "What is it, Jr.?"

Boom! Boom!

Screwing shut his sapphire eyes, Jr. made an uncomfortable squirm, coercing chaos to give the U.R.T.V. a little more space. His head still bobbing and his small hands gripping the bed sheet, the redhead perfectly mimicked a child having a bad dream. More and more frantic, the disheveled Jr. garbled what sounded like a cross between a moan and a whimper.

"Mrm…w-where-s…Nigray-do? …He' okay?"

Translucent eyes blinked once more, coordinated with another brilliant boom of flashing fireworks.

chaos never imagined Jr. was drunk enough to overlap the present with…

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"chaos! Canaan! Where's Nigredo? Is he okay? Where is he? Tell me, Goddammit! What've you bastards done with my brother?"

Fourteen years ago came a night as dark as oblivion, long past midnight. Miltia was long gone, but the gunfire and bombings still rang in survivors' ears. It was inside an isolated Federation hospital where chaos sat at the bed of a wounded twelve-year-old boy. Like a firecracker, the redhead exploded upon regaining consciousness, demanding the whereabouts of his missing baby brother. He did not seem to care about, or even notice, his own injuries that rendered him in a hospital bed. After undergoing Hell and losing all but one of his siblings, the redhead's franticness came as no surprise.

As always, and as it always would be, chaos was first to calm down the fiery child with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Take it easy, Rubedo. Your brother is fine. He's in a separate room recovering from nano-surgery. There's nothing to worry about. The doctors said you could go visit him in the morning, after both you and him have a full night's sleep. Until then, just rest."

"Take it easy, Jr." chaos reassured with a gentle massage. "Your brother is fine. He's in another room right now," and chaos preferred to omit details justifying why Gaignun was in another room. "There's nothing to worry about. You'll see him in the morning, after you have a full night's sleep. Until then, just rest."

And that was all it took for chaos to tame the temperamental U.R.T.V. Chances were, Jr. was just too tired to protest, sinking into his bed as though drifting to a far away place. Wherever the boy went in his dreams, chaos hoped it was a pleasant place. A hellish hangover would greet Jr. come morning, but until then, chaos hoped Jr. could enjoy his euphoria a bit longer.

"…cha-os?"

Preferring that Jr. get as much sleep as possible, chaos shushed him. "Shh. We can talk tomorrow."

But never the type to stop talking for an extended period of time, Jr. produced a lopsided smile for his faithful friend. "Thanks…buddy," he whispered with a surprising amount of sincerity amidst inebriation. Shifting to get more comfortable, the redhead hiccuped another chuckle. "Next time…I'll let you…ride me into the sunset…kay?"

chaos chose to ignore yet another one of Jr.'s poorly worded sentences. All the same, he understood Jr.'s intentions of returning the favor. chaos never asked for anything, especially reimbursement. Nevertheless, Jr. did not like to be indebted, yet the redhead was as indebted to chaos as Matthews was to Gaignun. The only difference was how chaos' best friend had already paid his debt, though perhaps inadvertently. Outsiders might think the seraph got the short end of his relationship with Jr. Instead, chaos' typically melancholic smile simply brightened.

"Thanks, but I'll pass on that offer, Jr.," chuckled chaos, gently stroking the boy's disheveled crimson hair. The askew yet undeniably thankful smile along Jr.'s lips was all chaos needed. "Now get some rest. I have a feeling your new year is going to be busy. A hangover's bound to be the least of your worries once Ziggy finds you."

The End


A/N: Sometimes I wonder what Jr. would do without chaos being there to bail him out. ^^ God bless dear/poor chaos.

With that, I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. My best wishes to you for a happy New Year 2012!