Disclaimer: - I do not own Weiss Kreuz or any of the songs featured within the fic.
Are you alone, Renaissance eyes?
I won't tell my family stolen from, Renaissance eyes.
Is that your car, Renaissance eyes, yeah?
Have you ever taken dancing lessons, Renaissance eyes?
Drench you in a passion …
And dress you with a passion…
Though the vision haunts you…
I'm the one who wants you to love me with those eyes.
Love me with those eyes.
Oh, is that you car, Renaissance eyes?
I once had a car but it was stolen, Renaissance eyes.
Tell me your name, Renaissance eyes!
Do you ever think about the future, Renaissance eyes?
Drench you in a passion …
And dress you with a passion…
Though the vision haunts you…
I'm the one who wants you to love me with those eyes.
Love me with those eyes.
Oh spend my days with the copies I've collected,
All my nights, all my nights with a sliver screen…
Nothing wrong with the way that I respect her -
She's more than a, more than an ordinary queen.
Drench you in a passion…
And dress you with a passion…
Though the vision haunts you…
I'm the one who wants you to love me with those eyes.
Love me with those eyes.
When the days are short…
And the nights are long…
And I wait for you to love me with those eyes.
Love me with those eyes, eyes, eyes.
Love me with those eyes, eyes.
Love me with those eyes.

Renaissance eyes – Hootie and the Blowfish

"Which house is it Omi?"

"I can't tell for sure. There's too much interference due to the storm. My link-up keeps shutting down. I'm sorry Ken-kun…"

"Kuso!"

"Get off Omi's back Ken! Omittichi, get off that roof ASAP - I don't want to have to carry your fried ass home!

"Don't be silly Youji-kun. I'm perfectly safe."

"If the two of you are done cooing at each other, I'm getting really wet out here."

"Shove it Ken!"

"Whatever. So, how you wanna do this?"

"Ken-kun, you take the house on the left. Youji-kun, you take the one on the right. Maintain radio contact with me and we can alert the other to the right house. Okay?"

"Will do, Omittichi. Oy Ken! How much you wanna bet that my house is the right one?"

"One night of K.P. duty?"

"Youji-kun… I really don't feel… betting about someone's life doesn't seem right…"

"Sorry about that, Chibi... We really didn't mean it like – "

"Still getting wet out here, you guys!"

"So go already! Don't have to listen in anymore now that you've got instructions, do you? Or is it that you enjoy voyeurism, Kenken?

"Fuck you. Siberian out."

The storm was really howling, the rain falling nearly perpendicular to the ground. The storm drains overflowed onto the sidewalk, making little puddles in the worn surface. Mud streaked across the tarmac as the wind and rain combined their intensity, sweeping it along in whirling patterns. Lightning flashed out starkly against the sky, illuminating the edges of the houses, shuttered and braced against the storm.

Ken crept carefully through the bushes rimming the grounds of the house. The house itself was about two stories high and looked well maintained. Subtle touches showed that the security was pretty up-to-date as well – The fact that none of the ivy that curved so gracefully over the brownstone entrance went anywhere near the upstairs windows, the sparseness of trees in the close vicinity of the house; and those close to the upper floors had their branches carefully trimmed. All in all, it looked like a fairly expensive set-up.

It suited the posh locality it was situated in, Ken mused, elegant and imposing in the extreme. Stalking around the side of the house, he scanned the windows. Most were shut in deference to the storm but he was hoping for a lucky break – maybe someone had forgotten to close one of the upstairs windows… or maybe someone enjoyed storms, although storm buffs tended to prefer the placid ones with more wind and less rain. Keeping to either the foliage or the shadows, Ken carefully scanned the area. No luck.

"Drat! Guess I'll have to do this the hard way…"

Clicking on his headset twice in a previously decided signal, he quickly slunk up to the front door and yanked out his lock pick tools. He generally preferred just climbing in through a window – it was too risky to sit out here in the open while fighting with a lock that may or may not have an alarm attached to it. And give the ritzy locality they were in, it wouldn't be surprising if this one did.

Leaning back, he quickly gave the alarm box a quick look – it was a good one, one of the latest on the market. Omi had spent a good twenty minutes on it the first time he brought one home, tinkering about and humming happily before explaining the system to them. Ken mentally went through the lecture once again as he prized the cover off.

"Ignore the blue and green wires, those are just decoys. Check out this really great idea, cut this wire out and it activates a silent alarm! So the guy doesn't know what's happening until the cops arrive – really well planned!"

"Get back to the point Chibi. I'm losing my beauty sleep here."

"Sorry Youji-kun. Anyway, see this tiny pink wire in the back. No Ken-kun, the red one doesn't do anything. See this little pink one?"

"All I see is your big finger. Come on Omi… move over!"

"Fine! Let's see you get it right then Ken-kun! You can just do it by yourself!"

"Someone's in for troubleeee…."

"Shut it Youji! I'm sorry Omi… I really couldn't see anything with your finger there. Could you show me the pink wire again?"

"That's all right Ken-kun. See here in the back…"

"Pink is for girls, you know."

"Whatever Youji."

"It really is your color Ken… totally goes with that becoming flush…"

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP!"

"Ken-kun! Stop strangling Youji-kun and pay attention!"

"My hero!"

"Aaaa! Youji-kun, I can't breathe!"

"If you guys are going to start up now I'm leaving!"

"Ken-kun!"

Ken chuckled softly as he reached for the hidden pink wire. It was so easy to get Omi to blush… "Pinnk…. I wanna wrap you in rubber…. Pink… it's the love you discover…" he crooned, fingers poking about in the jumbled mess of wire. Finding it way in the back, he quickly disconnected it and turned the doorknob, quietly letting himself in.
"Pink… as the sheets that we lay on… cause pink is my favorite crayon…" came back at him through his head set, Youji's voice tinged with amusement.
"And I don't really wanna hear where that crayon's been!"
Grinning, Ken clicked on his headset once in a signal for silence, Youji's chuckles ringing in his ears. Creeping stealthily, he scanned the main hallway, drawing room and kitchen. Finding the ground floor silent and empty, he moved carefully up the stairs, testing each step for noise before placing his full weight on it. Soft squelches signaled his advancement up the hardwood stairs as he left wet, muddy footprints in his wake.
Ken sighed softly in frustration – he'd have to clean that up later, he couldn't risk leaving behind any sort of clue to his identity, especially with the shop so close to this locality. For all he knew, the owners of the house could be regular patrons… or fan girls…
Ken shuddered dramatically at the thought. He didn't want to think what would occur if one of the fan girls ever found him in their house. He'd sooner turn his bugnuks on himself than leave himself to their version of mercy...
Pulling his mind back from those horrific thoughts, he crept quickly up the stairs. At one point a creak made him fall into instinctive stance, claws out and at the ready, but he soon calmed as the house resettled itself and no one appeared. Scanning the hallway carefully he moved to the first door, gently depressing the handle and easing it open.
The first thought that hit him was that the room smelt strange - like vanilla and fresh earth. It tickled his nose, making him hesitate to move further into the room. A sneeze would definitely wake the occupant and Ken didn't need the extra aggravation of an un-necessary fight. Besides, for all he knew, this was the wrong house. He didn't want to have to injure an innocent, especially if it could be avoided. He was a white hunter, not one of the dark beasts he was fighting so hard against, regardless of how stained his own hands were.
When he was certain that his nose had calmed sufficiently, he poked his head into the room. The bed was lumpy, indicating an occupant. A small reading lamp was on, casting its golden glow over the white sheets. A pale hand poked out from under the covers, the wrist seemingly thin and fragile, dangling over the edge of the bed.
The rest of the room was sparsely furnished, with a single cupboard, a desk and chair – bare essentials. And yet, the quality of each item was clear, even to Ken's untrained eyes. The desk's mahogany surface gleamed softly, reflecting the slight golden glow of the lamp, casting a shadow on the hardwood floors.
Ken crept forward, wincing with every squelch his muddy boots made. He'd have to check on the person's identity, check if this was the person who ran a large organized crime syndicate that killed scores of people every year. He'd have to check for a man whose actions had been hideous enough to warrant his immediate extermination. And then he would have to carry out his orders.
Easing the covers down, he had time only to notice a flash of red before a fist came winging its way straight towards his jaw. Reacting on instinct he flung himself back, away from this sudden threat. His fists tightened, the blood pounding rapidly through his temples, every muscle taut and quivering with anticipation. He moved into a defensive crouch against the far wall, unwilling to hurt anyone until he had seen their face – if he was called upon this night to kill an innocent, then he would do that person the honor; no… the respect, of carrying their memory within himself. And if they were guilty…
He waited, noting the tensed movement coming from underneath the covers, the resettling of the covers as the person shifted their weight carefully. Nearly trembling with anticipation and nerves, he waited, his pulse jittery, his mind strangely calm and settled. Seconds moved into minutes as Ken waited. And then he heard it – it was loud, distinct and unmistakably…
A snore! Whoever the idiot was, he was fast asleep all over again! Ken nearly screamed with frustration. He'd gotten all keyed up over someone resettling their blankets! Silently cursing himself, the bozo on the bed, the world in general and Persia in particular, he moved forward again, drawing the sheet carefully down… and caught his breath. An amazingly beautiful face looked back – blood red hair falling over the high forehead, the smooth pale oval of a face, the chiseled lips, that sharp nose, those beautiful violet eyes…
Open, angry violet eyes… OH SHIT!
Ken attempted to jump away again, but apparently the same trick couldn't work twice. A large hand flew out from under the covers to fasten around his throat, tightening despite his frantic jerking. Ken found himself with his blood pounding through his ears once more. Only this time, he couldn't breathe at all! Desperation prompted him to slice forward with his bugnuks, leaving a thin cut along one pale, taut forearm.
"Ow! Fuck!"
Coughing slightly, Ken backed away as fast as his legs would go, stopping only when the cold, hard wall met his back. Keeping his eyes trained on the shadowy figure on the bed, he edged side-ways, one hand groping frantically for the door handle.
"Where are you running off too? I won't let you rob me and then just waltz out of here, you know…"
Ken paused for a minute, his blood boiling slightly. The remark was out of his mouth before he was even aware of it –
"I'm not a thief, you idiot! I'm an assassin!"
Shit! Oh shit! Not only had he gone and revealed his status, but this guy now had a pretty good idea what he looked and sounded like too! Omi and Youji were going to kill him when they found out! As for this guy… he didn't like having to do it… but he'd have to kill him as well…
Ken was rudely jerked out of his thoughts when a smooth, deep voice sing-songed –
"Oh really now. I didn't realize I was quite important enough to warrant an assassination. But do attempt it, by all means. If you can…"
Ken bristled at the implication that he, a trained, not to mention armed, assassin would be unable to take down one unarmed civilian. His pride chafing, his temper flared out in immediate response.
"Oh yeah?"
Oh really witty retort Ken! He nearly whapped his hand against his head but remembered his bugnuks just in time – he needed another scar like he needed an audit from the IRS. Besides, why was he getting all keyed up about one mouthy guy trying to egg him on? All he had to do was dispatch the witness quickly and then check the other rooms...
"Yeah", a voice drawled out, pulling him back to the present.
"You're awfully mouthy for someone who's going to get their ass kicked in about three seconds." He taunted.
"Really now? Three whole seconds to prepare... You sure it's enough, assassin man?" came back at him, quick as ever.
Ken grinned. He was beginning to enjoy the exchange now. It reminded him vaguely of his fights with Youji – the two of them could trade insults all day…
"I only needed one. The remaining two were spent planning how to deal with your body."
"Oh? Don't all the good assassins come prepared with a basic idea first? Whoever's trying to kill me obviously hasn't spent too much money on this idea..." White teeth gleamed at Ken.
"I can see why he'd want to kill you though" Ken shot back, completely forgetting his original mission in the heat of the moment. "Never met anyone quite as irritating as you are."
"Really? Haven't met very many people then, have you? Although given your personality, I'd have kept away myself."
"Hey!" Ken whined, vaguely offended, "It's not like I'm actually trying to get you to like me, you know? I could be really nice if I wanted to be…"
"Aw… did I hurt the poor little assassin's feelings? My bad. So, I thought death was coming in three seconds. Running a little behind schedule tonight, aren't we?"
"Bakayako" Ken growled out, half affectionately. He was beginning to really hate the idea of killing this guy, but what option did he really have anyway? If he let him live, then he could be identified to the police and Kritiker would not take very kindly to that… In fact, Ken didn't really think Kritiker would leave very much of him to find… probably just enough for police to I.D. his body… Nope! The guy had to die.
Launching himself forward, he clenched his fists, the moonlight reflecting off the gleaming blades of his bugnuks. He'd try to make this guy's death as quick and painless as possible…
"Siberian"
The harsh crackle of static in his ear threw his balance off for a second, giving the guy time to roll off the bed and throw a sheet over his face. Stumbling about blindly, Ken cursed under his breath.
"Zakkenayo! Stupid fuckin' sheet…"
"Ken-kun? Are you all right?"
The strain and worry in Omi's voice finally penetrated the haze of irritation surrounding Ken's mind and he stopped struggling with the sheet for a moment to listen. Conscious of prying ears, Ken remembered to stick to code names only.
"What's up Bombay? Everything okay?"
"Not really"
Ken could hear the tears and panic just beneath the surface,
"Balinese found the house but it had more guards than we thought. He got hit and lost radio contact. I've got him out of the house and the mission's complete but he's bleeding pretty badly Ken-kun. I think we need to take him to a hospital now!" Omi was practically hyperventilating at the end of the speech.
"Bombay, listen to me. Calm – Oof!"
Ken's knees buckled as the fist sank deep into his gut. A hard voice, bearing little resemblance to the playful bantering tone of before sounded above him.
"Are there more of you then? Were you just stalling for time so that your back-up could come along, you coward?!"
Ken shoved out as well, a dull thud proving that he had hit his target. Bending over, he wound his arms around his stomach.
"Shut up you moron! I could take you on with both hands tied behind my back. Don't push me…" Ken rasped back, breathing deeply to control the pain radiating out from his stomach. The guy had a great arm…
"Ken-kun?" Omi sounded almost frantic. "Are you okay? We've got to go, NOW! The guy's guards, or whatever's left of them, have called the cops!"
"I have to take care of something Bombay" Ken replied calmly, finally managing to remove the sheet, his eyes clashing with furious violet, "You go on ahead without me."
"We can't afford that Siberian! I can't leave any of you guys behind!" Omi sobbed.
Ken winced. Omi obviously needed him there for reassurance. And besides, every second sometimes made the difference if Youji was actually in the horrible shape Omi was making him out to be. His eyes stayed steady on violet as the other man drew himself up to his full height, about three to four inches over Ken's own five feet ten inches. Bracing himself, he launched himself forward.
Violet eyes narrowed and one arm shot out quickly, aimed for his throat. Ducking under the arm, Ken dropped to the ground and swept his leg out, snagging the other guy at his ankles and sending him crashing to the floor. Ken rolled aside swiftly and ran for the door.
Pounding down the stairs, he avoided the original sets of muddy footprints, dry now but no less distinctive. Wincing at the number of things he'd been forced to leave unfinished, he careened out the door and into the waiting car.
Omi's blue eyes were terrified as one hand trembled on the steering wheel and the other pressed a blood soaked piece of cloth firmly over Youji's stomach. The latter was pale, probably from loss of blood, eyelids fluttering in a brave attempt to stay conscious. Omi's lips moved through a flurry of praises, pleadings and curses.
"Don't you dare get killed on this Youji-kun! I'll kill you myself if you try! Oh please God! Just hang on for a while, okay? We'll go to the hospital and everything will be fine. Just you wait and see. Keep your eyes open Youji! Don't you close them on me!"
Turning on Ken like an avenging angel, Omi blasted out – "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? Youji, open your eyes! I'm begging you! Ken! Just get in and hold the compress… I don't think Youji can afford to loose much more blood… Youji! Keep your eyes open or I'll burn your favorite pair of pants! I swear I will! Ken! Get in the car NOW!"
"I can't get in the back and still hold the compress Omi" Ken reasoned hesitantly. "We need to shift Youji round to the back, okay?"
Omi's face went almost blank with fear. "Shift him? Now? But he's… he's…"
Ken hastily calculated, then shoved himself through whatever little space there was left between the two front seats, keeping his legs apart to accommodate the gear shift, and feeling the handbrake rest against his backside.
"Damn! I'm glad Youji's out cold or I'd be hearing about phallic symbols all night" he joked, grabbing the compress from Omi and reapplying the pressure. Omi gave him a small watery smile, eyes begging him to prove that everything would end up all right.
The car screeched off into the night, weaving slightly over the wet road as Omi struggled against the storm. A few minutes later, red and blue lights flashed around the corner, sirens blasting.

Author's note: - (Sweatdrop) I really have little or no idea what was going through my head when I wrote this fic. Originally, this was supposed to be another chapter for my other fanfic 'Bent'. But the moment my hands touched the keys... well, you've seen the result. I know Ran's a little OOC but I think I like him better this way. Also, he isn't part of Weiss, so it's a bit of an AU fic. I'd love any sort of feedback and reviews, constructive criticism or just plain opinions are always welcome. I'd ask for no flames though... I'm a little sensitive...

As always I'm stubbornly,

diabolique.