Disclaimers: If i owned them, I'd be drawing these nice little segments, eh?
Kaori Yuki.
"You're still up, Doctor?" Cassain questioned as he entered the room, ignoring the already familiar smell of formaldehyde and blood that tainted the small room. The Doctor looked up from his work, his favorite scalpel posed in his mouth, dripping with dark red blood from his most recent victim. His long, silver hair was tied into place behind his back in a loose ponytail, kept out of his way while he worked.
Seeing the brown-haired "boy", Doctor Jizabel Disreali smiled, silently welcoming him into his lair. Cassain had previously been trapped in the body of a 12-year-old, only to be freed by the Doctor, who ended up transplanting his brain into that of an older man, suiting his real age.
Cassain stepped over to the cold, metal table where the Doctor stood, leaning over a bit to see his friend's latest victim. The victim was male, with black hair and closed eyes. He didn't appear to be breathing, although his arms and legs were strapped down. His skin was pale, giving the John Doe an aristocratic look. He looked a lot like Jizabel's half-brother, Cain, which was probaly why the Doctor had been in his room for hours longer than usual.
The body lay cut open, in the traditional "Y" shape of autopsy. The skin was folded professionally over the sides of the lifeless body as the Doctor explored its insides, performing some unknown experiment. "Is it alive..?" the brown-haired man asked, brown eyes flickering up to the Doctor questioningly. Jizabel looked up, meeting his gaze with silver-blue eyes for a split second before they both looked away quickly, looking down at the John Doe instead, each hiding a slight blush.
The Doctor removed the scalpel from his pale lips with a gloved hand, accidentally tainting the white of his skin with the red of the blood. "He's alive..." he said, pointing to the heart and tracing the air above an artery, indicating the slight pulse of the victim. "I'm almost done, though. Want to watch..?" he invited, internally hoping that the other man would stay, but keeping such emotions inside of him, as he'd trained himself to do.
Cassain almost recoiled; if he'd been any weaker, he would have left the instant he smelled the blood. Instead, he stepped over to Jizabel's side of the silver, blood-stained table. The silver-haired man gave a slight nod before pulling the skin back into place, covering the John Doe's insides up before picking up new tools, preparing to stitch him back together.
The brown-haired man watched silently, as he knew better than to try and talk to the Doctor while he was stitching up. Jizabel worked quickly, inserting almost invisible, dissolvable stitches along his previous cutting lines. The red of the skin would fade with time, as would the stitches. The only visible trace that the Doctor would leave on his victim would be a faint scar, only noticeable if someone was looking closely for it.
As he finished up, the older man put away his tools; eyes scanning his victim to make sure everything was in its proper place. Satisfied, he set to cleaning up his tools and workplace. After all, he wasn't a messy person, and disliked to leave things out of order.
The brown-haired man helped; he hated feeling useless. He carefully handed tools to the Doctor, then pulled a cloth out to wipe up the mess in quick strokes. As they finished, Jizabel turned to Cassain, slightly looking up and into the other man's brown eyes, preparing to say something.
Absently, Cassain reached out, gently swiping his thumb across the blood stain on his superior's cheek, silencing the thoughts of the other man. He narrowed his eyes as the red refused to leave, his hand slowly pushing underneath the Doctor's chin, tilting his head up some. He leaned over, gently licking the blood spot, the red disappearing under his persistence.
Noticing what the brown-haired man was doing, both of the men stopped, their cheeks turning a shade of red that couldn't be wiped away. Cassain's eyes trailed down to meet Jizabel's, invoking a staring match as each tried to read the other. Jizabel's lips subconsciously parted as his head was tilted up more, and Cassain leaned down once again, gently pressing his lips to the Doctor's.
After a long moment, Cassain pulled back, his blush only deepening as Jizabel's eyes fluttered open, staring with open curiosity. The brown-haired man bit his lip, his hand dropping from the Doctor's chin. He turned, looking away. "..Sorry..." he murmured, sighing to himself.
Jizabel shook his head, recovering slowly. He blinked, staring at the other man, confusion lining his silver eyes, "Why..?" he asked, inadvertently tilting his head. The younger man glanced at him, his blush only deepening before he turned, "...nothing, never mind..." he murmured, more to himself as he walked out.
The Doctor's silver eyes stared after the other man, his own blush turning a deeper red as his hand trailed up, fingertips pushing against his own lips in surprise. 'Why..?' he repeated to himself, his blush only deepening, He turned, looking, instead, at the body that lay breathing silently on his table.
He stepped over, leaning over the side to look at his John Doe's face. "Do you know..?" he asked, then shook his head. He was being irrational. The only one who would know why he'd done it was Cassain himself. He sighed as he picked up a syringe. Inserting the needle into his victim's arm, he watched as the drug slowly started to take effect, the coloring of the aristocrat's skin becoming healthier as the drug jump-started his systems again, slowly waking him up.
It was going to be a long night.