Thirty Pieces

By Lilimundi

Notes: There is strong sexual and violent content within, as well as AU elements. This story takes place during the second part of Kapitel and will go to the end of Kaptiel.

The "flea on crack" line came from my sister during a very amusing discussion about movement range in Soul Nomad and the World Eaters.

Chapter Two

"Where in the- Oh!" A girl in her early twenties had answered the door, long hair so light Yohji was wondering if it could be called white blonde or pure gray, and a fiercely annoyed look melting from her young looking face. She looked at the bouquet in front of her, blinking. "Sorry, I thought you were..." Her Japanese had a very distinct American accent, and he could see her struggling with her vocabulary. Though, he didn't doubt the scar against her temple didn't help with her language problem. "Um. Flowers?"

"Lauren, who is it?" came a male voice, causing her to turn just enough to keep one eye on Yohji as she looked to see who was coming. A small, warm look crossed her face and she looked back outside.

Yohji smiled winningly at her, his flirting response scaled back a bit as a Japanese man came up behind her, lightly stroking her shoulder. He watched Yohji with equal parts curiosity and wariness, a hand going down to setting on her waist. "Someone decided a lovely couple should have lovely flowers. Congratulations."

The couple shared a look, speaking quietly to each other in English. Slowly, he took the card out of the arrangement, reading the words that had been written a week ago, translating the Japanese to English then asking her a soft question. The girl looked upset as she spat something out at him, gesturing to her head. He frowned, then turned back to Yohji, taking the heliotrope arrangement. "Thank you," he told him, closing the door firmly in his face.

Well. Not a normal lover's spat. Yohji slid into his car, pulling out a cigarette as he did. He'd have to stop to get another pack before he got back to the shop, despite the fact that would cause him to be later than usual. Ken would just have to deal, he decided as he lit up, taking a deep hit of nicotine.

Something was certainly up, though. Not just with this interesting love triangle (and he would eat his sunglasses if those flowers were for the man), but overall. Some mathematician on the Kritiker team had set up this equation to see when the Coin Killer would hit next, and of course days after when zhe was supposed to attack, there still wasn't another dead body. Something about the entire thing didn't add up. If it was one of them...

Yohji shook his head, inhaling another lungful of smoke and tar. If it was, there would be signs to it. Manx still hadn't been able to get a hold of the contact in America, and the information in Japan was getting more and more tenuous as the minutes went by. He could tell that Kritiker wanted to put Weiß on the case, but when Manx took concern with a particular mission instead of Birman, they rarely got a case that consisted of "Go here and kill who or whatever's doing this, like we know what's going on."

It was incredibly frustrating. And tonight they had another mission. Omi wasn't taking a front line role this time, and the fact he was forced to remain at the Koneko, only able to tell what his teammates were doing by radar and radio transmissions, ate at the boy. Yohji wasn't about to admit it, but he was uneasy about not having Bombay on site with them. While his mission planning and execution was to the point he was the unofficial leader, he worked the best around the rest of Weiß. It was going to be tricky without being able to rely on Omi's firsthand experience with the site and his well timed darts.

Yohji coughed suddenly, looking down at his cig with a wary eye. Somehow, he had managed to smoke it quickly enough that he was inhaling filter smoke. With a practiced flick, the finished stick went flying out the window. It was about time to get back to the shop anyway. The afternoon crowd of fans would hit soon, and he couldn't disappoint them by being too late. Worrying about the killer and the mission would have to wait.

---

It was amazing how so many missions were forgettable. Yohji looked up at the body strung up on wires, trying to remember when, how, and came up with "guard in the way." Somehow, it didn't matter. One more dead guy, one more evil asshole dead, one more paycheck. His life since joining Weiß had become strangely predictable in some ways. With a chuckle, he turned around to leave.

A nasal chuckle slowed his turn, and he reached for his watch again. Damn. He hadn't expected them to show up here. Nothing about this target had to do with the fallen Takatori empire, nor any genetic or psychic manipulation. It had been pure drug trade, with the emphasis being on children. Yohji cast a look around, trying to see the obnoxious orange hair that came with the laughter.

"Saa. You're too paranoid for your own good," came the languid voice, Schwarz's telepath stepping out of the shadows. The bastard's lips were turned up in what would only be called a smile out of technicality. Yohji felt a light touch against his skin, soft and horribly intimate. "You want a job in Schwarz, little kitten? You're particularly good at taking out our targets before we do."

Without a word, without allowing himself to think about how stupid of an idea it was or that he really couldn't kill the idiot but he'd try his fucking best to knock him out, Yohji cast out his wire. He allowed for minimum thought about it, if only to ensure that it was aimed properly, but the telepath blurred out of the way before it hit. Of course, Yohji wondered if it was true super speed, or if the Schwarz asshole slowed down his thought process to make it seem like a simple slow step was faster than a flea on crack.

Fuck. A few years ago and he would have been able to take the entire team on his terms. Now, he was fighting to keep up rudimentary mental blocks and firing from the hip to keep a telepath off guard and not really succeeding in either. One strand of wire came back at him, twisting around the wrist with the watch and a pipe, and the telepath came closer to him, smirking. "Aww, is the little kitten tired?" he mocked, slapping Yohji's face a little more firmly than "playful."

"Nah, just wondering why I should worry about a useless dick like you," he shot back, biting back a sound of pain as the telepath tightened the wire.

"Sure you're not projecting?" he purred, watching the blood flow down his arm with obvious glee. Then he winced, muttering in what was too guttural to be English. With one final baring of teeth, he let go of Yohji and blurred away, this time obviously messing with Yohji's perception of time to seem as if he was moving at superhuman speeds.

Damned Schwarz. He started to untangle himself from his own wire, hissing slightly as it cut into his skin. The wire had just slipped enough for him to get his hand free when he heard Abyssinian's voice, curt and tense, "Weiß, vacate! Schwarz has planted bombs."

Yohji took his previous statement and amended it as he ran for the door. It was amazing how many missions were forgettable and how many could be utterly fucked.

---

"So what's the mission, boss lady?"

She smiled, her fingers trailing along the wood of his desk. "In Japan, there's someone I'm looking for. Female. She would have been... out of commission for several years and yet her body would still be perfect. And she would have a link to Kritiker and Eszett."

His eyes sharpened at the German words. "What makes you think I have anything to do with Eszett?" he asked mildly, staying stock still as she leaned into his face.

"You're not the only one with supernatural skill at the computer," she purred, lightly stroking his hand. He felt himself harden at the touch of soft skin, licking his lips as she leaned in closer. "But... as it is, technomancer, you've been hiding your skills and your allegiance, haven't you? If you complete this..." Her hands lifted off of his, going to the buttons of her shirt. "I'll give you something only I can give you." The cloth slipped off her skin just enough to show she definitely wasn't wearing anything under. A deep inhale and strategic back thrust showed off the points of her nipples, hard and ready for him to touch. She smiled at him, her fingers dipping under the waistband of her pants. "I'll give you the best time of your life."

A little voice in the back of his mind shouted at that, at the tones under it. But the lust throbbing through his body was louder, and he nodded. "S-sure."

Her teeth were shown as buttoned her shirt back up, watching him. "Remember, look for her. I know Kritiker has some interesting groups, but they're not who I'm looking for." She handed him a business card, surreally professional. "Call this number when you find her."

"Yeah, sure." He was babbling, and he knew it. "Going to have to use my power, so trying to make sure they don't find out's going to be extra... money, I mean money! I uh... shit."

She laughed, pinching his cheek. "How cute you are. You will be paid handsomely, Ragdoll." She slid off the desk and left, her ass moving suggestively from behind a curtain of green hair. He watched it leave, then let out a long appreciative breath.

Much better than working on the stagnant Coin Killer case.