A Deeper Shade of Black

Set sometime in the first series. When? Doesn't matter, really!

Sorry for not responding to reviews the way I usually do. Hopefully the fast update will make up for my lack of social skills!

Disclaimer: Don't own, not making any money off of this.


Misaki was surprised to find street parking available within a reasonable walking distance of the park. Surrounded as it was by high-rise buildings that included both apartments and offices, she anticipated driving in circles for an hour before giving up and going home. Or was that something she hoped for…?

She slammed the car door shut, her jaw firming with resolve. Right. She could do this.

Raising two fingers towards the bridge of her nose to adjust her glasses, Misaki nearly poked out an eye. Mindful that her glasses had been broken during her last confrontation with BK-201, she had opted for her rarely worn contact lenses. With her astigmatism, contacts were impractical on the job. She didn't need blurry vision when she was trying to aim her weapon.

I really am treating this like a date, aren't I? A wry smile chased across Misaki's lips. If it was the criminal syndicate rather than BK-201, she was going to both feel like an idiot and probably get herself killed, trying to run around in her strappy sandals, shooting at the bad guys while desperately blinking to keep her contacts aligned so her vision remained focused.

And now she was standing by her car thinking an ambush by a cartel was preferable to meeting one-on-one with a man who, although he could have killed her several times over, had (at least so far) left her unharmed.

No wonder she never went on dates. It was too nerve-racking. Dealing with murderous criminal scum was easy in comparison.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Misaki surreptitiously tapped her fingertips against the holster strapped to her side. False reassurance, she acknowledged. She would be better armed if she knew more about BK-201, which brought her back to the real reason she was here. Intelligence gathering. Sleeping with the enemy to gather said intelligence was a small price to pay.

Or so she told herself.

Her sandals slapped against her feet as she walked along the sideway that approached the park. It was an odd noise, unlike her usual firm footsteps. Misaki soon realized that she needed to take small steps rather than her normal brisk strides or risk kicking the useless things off entirely. She was going to have to talk to Kanami about her impractical taste in footwear. In fact, there were so many things she needed to say to her supposed best friend that Misaki mentally started a list for their next meeting.

The park was closed, of course, but accessible to anyone willing to brave pushing past the thick, shrubby border. Misaki shouldered through with determination. Even though well-lighted streets surrounded the park, within its boundaries darkness reigned. She paused when her footing changed from damp vegetation to pebbles, realizing she was on one of the winding scenic paths.

Too dark to be scenic at the moment, she thought, although there should be a bench nearby. She carefully edged along the path as her eyes adjusted, beginning to pick out dark shapes against the dark background. Cautiously prodding one solid-looking shadow with her toe, Misaki was relieved to discover it was a bench set just off the path. She never thought of this particular park as being especially large, but wandering around in the dark trying to find someone who may or may not be BK-201 was a futile exercise. Sitting down, she crossed her arms as she shot irritated glances around the darkened area. Let whoever wanted this meeting find her instead.

It wasn't long before her foot was tapping impatiently. Grumbling under her breath, Misaki leaned her head back, eyes closed, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the park. The park was too quiet for her tastes. She was a city girl, through and through; the lack of traffic noise and background human murmuring threw off her senses. Trying to hear a single footfall (or a 'thump' since BK-201 was always falling out of the sky) over the gentle rustling of trees proved beyond her meager tracking abilities. She could chase a felon through blocks of twisting back alleys without once losing sight of the criminal, but place her in anything that approximated "nature" (even a carefully manicured nature) and she would be lost in seconds.

"You shouldn't frown so hard," commented a voice from directly in front of her.

Drawing in a calming breath through her nose, Misaki opened her eyes and lowered her chin. Across the path from her seat floated a mask. She blinked, and refocused slightly to the side, carefully picking out the subtle shades that delimitated BK-201's all-encompassing coat from the shadowed background. "It is you," she said, a little surprised her deductions proved accurate.

"You were expecting someone else?"

"I suspected a trap by your want-to-be friends. They've been asking questions about me."

"Are they making a nuisance of themselves? I'll have to do something about that."

Misaki glared at him. "Let the police deal with the criminals."

His response carried the barest hint of amusement. "Of course, Section-Chief Kirihara."

Five seconds into their meeting, and he was already irritating the heck out of her. "I'm here," snapped Misaki. "What do you want?"

"You said yes. Did you mean it?"

"Did you?" she countered.

There was crunch as he took a step closer, then another, until he towered over her. Gloved fingers touched the side of her neck. Suddenly the mask was right in front of her, filling her vision. "Yes," he said, his voice low and laced with nuance. "I meant it."

Misaki had the feeling that, if not for the mask, he would have kissed her. What was more disconcerting, she realized, was that she would have let him.

The leather of his gloves gently brushed up and down her neck before he straightened. When next he spoke, his voice was brisk and businesslike. "Any weapons?"

"The usual ones in the usual places."

"GPS devices?"

Scowling, Misaki didn't answer.

"Tsk. Where's the trust?" He reached for her.

She managed not to flinch, but all he did was lightly lay his hands on her shoulders before trailing his fingertips down her arms. He's frisking me. "Not going to tell me to assume the position?" Misaki asked dryly.

BK-201 hesitated, fingers lingering near her elbows, most likely mentally parsing a dozen randy responses before settling on a single shake of his head. Continuing, he paused at her wrist, touching the too-large watch before deftly unlatching the band. Pulling her from her sitting position on the bench, he transferred the light touch to her sides. Misaki tried not to fidget. His touch was impersonal; he wasn't taking advantage of the situation for a grope. His fingers paused when he reached the holster holding her gun before moving on. He was more concerned about tracking devices than weapons? But then, bullets bounced off him, so perhaps it wasn't surprising that he left her gun.

Kneeling, he ran his hands down her legs, stopping at her ankles. "Good try," he said. He lifted the cuff of her pants to remove the GPS device strapped to her ankle. "Anyone monitoring these?"

"No," Misaki said flatly. "Just a precaution so they can find what's left of me." She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

The mask turned upwards, as if he was looking into her face. Not that she could tell where he was looking. "I'm not going to hurt you." He sounded sincere, but then, contractors were good at lying. She heard cloth rustling as he stood up. Undoubtedly both her GPS devices were safely ensconced in a pocket. "I'll give these back to you later."

After we're done having illicit sex, she thought to herself sardonically. Although why illicit? They were both consenting adults, so perhaps that was the wrong word. "I have a few questions before I agree to anything."

"No questions," he reminded her.

Considering he had already asked several questions, Misaki thought that was patently unfair. "Not about—" She sighed, and steeled herself. "I have condoms. Will you use them?"

"Yes," he said after a brief pause, his voice notably huskier.

"When was your last sexual encounter?"

The mask skewed to the right. She wondered if she'd surprised him or insulted him. Would a contractor appreciate being logical when it came to intimacy?

"Yours?" was his unexpected response.

She should have anticipated he might turn the tables. Feeling the color rise in her face, Misaki was suddenly glad for the dark. "College. I graduated four years ago."

"Criminal science, I assume?"

This was bordering on typical date-like small talk. "My diploma says 'criminal justice,' but yes."

"South America." It took a moment to realize he was finally answering her question. "I've had two partners, but none since becoming a contractor five years ago." The mask skewed to the left. "So in a way, you'd be my first."

He, like November 11, appeared to have a sense of humor, although BK-201 was dry where the British agent was sly.

"Anything else?" he asked after a polite pause to wait for her next question.

Do you have a name? Who are you working for? Is this an elaborate set-up to discredit me? Why does a contractor have a sense of humor, or any interest in sex, or any interest in me? "No," Misaki said quietly.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

It was worded so graciously he might have been asking her over for tea. "I – yes."

"I'll have to blindfold you."

"What?" Misaki's voice rose half-an-octave in alarm. She gritted out the next word. "Why?"

"Because I'm taking you somewhere you can't know about." There was that irritatingly logical tone again, the one that reminded her he was a contractor. As if she could forget something so fundamental about him...

Misaki grumbled, vexed. "We're not doing it here?"

"This is a public place, Section-Chief." He sounded amused again. "I'm sure there's a number of ordinances we're already violating. We wouldn't want to add public indecency to that."

"Fine, whatever, just get it over with," she huffed.

"So romantic." She rolled her eyes before closing them. He turned her around, and she felt material drape across her upper face. Misaki knew should be feeling anxious or vulnerable, but honestly all she felt was a little irritated. He tied the blindfold loosely, something she could easily shake off. "I need one hand free. Turn around and put your arms around my neck."

She complied, very aware of how broad he was compared to her. He slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. "I'm using my cable," he warned. "It will be disorienting."

"I figured that's why you blindfolded me."

"I'm going to pick you up now. Don't be afraid."

She huffed again.

He lifted her until her toes brushed the ground. Belatedly, she realized another reason she should have worn different shoes; she would lose these in mid-air. "Wait!"

He promptly lowered her until her feet touched the ground again, although he didn't release her. "Change your mind?"

"I need to take off my sandals."

His arm dropped from her. She felt his hands close on her arms, removing hers from his shoulders. Then he knelt in front of her, and for the second time he touched her ankle. "I'll hold on to them for you. Lift up your foot."

Without her sight, her sense of balance was compromised. She put one hand down, and felt his shoulder tense under her fingers. His hands ran up her legs, her hips, gripped her waist before pushing her backwards. Here after all she thought, a bizarre combination of panicked dread and primal excitement filling her. She plopped down into the bench, the existence of which she had completely forgotten. …Oh. He wants me to sit down while he's taking off my shoes. How practical. Of course it's practical. He's a contractor. "They're loose. I can just kick them off."

"I'll do it."

His voice was … different. Diffident. And … familiar, somehow? Behind the blindfold she opened her eyes, only to close them again as the cloth brushed uncomfortably against them.

"Did you wear these for me?"

Definitely a different tone to his voice now. Why was she suddenly struck by a sense of familiarity? Some stray synapse in the back of her mind was screaming at her, but it was hard to pay attention when his gloved fingertips were handling her foot so delicately. "Well," Misaki said, wincing at how breathless she sounded, "it's like a date, right? I thought I should wear something, um, date-like."

"I wish I could take you somewhere to show you off."

If her eyes weren't already closed, Misaki would have blinked in astonishment at the wistful note in his voice. "The blindfold might raise some questions," she said sharply.

He chuckled, the same smothered sound of amusement she remembered from the last time they were together in a darkened park. "Depends on where we went."

One of the shoes came off. He ran his fingers gently underneath the arch of her bare foot. Maybe he had a foot fetish rather than a policewoman fetish? Those same fingers feathered across the top of her foot. Misaki repressed a shudder. She had no idea her feet were so sensitive. A little ticklish, yes, but not enough to make her want to squirm. Maybe she was the one with a foot fetish? Or perhaps the blindfold heightened the sensation. "For someone who hasn't been around women for five years, you seem to know your way around ladies' footwear."

BK-201's response, when it came, was markedly cooler. "Shoes are shoes." There was less lingering over the process as the second shoe came off. His fingers left her skin. Clothing rustled as he stood up. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

As soon as Misaki once more wrapped her arms around his shoulders a jolt shot through her as her feet left the ground. For a second she thought he'd electrocuted her again. Her fingers clenched into the dense-feeling cloth under her hands. No, he had activated his cable and they were flying off to who-knows-where. The sensation was even more disorienting with her eyes covered. She was glad she'd opted for a practical pants suit rather than a dress. A dress had to be awkward to fly around in. When the direction changed abruptly, more horizontal than vertical, Misaki bit back a gasp.

"Try not to lose your lunch," BK-201 advised, his voice near her ear.

She dryly echoed what he'd said earlier. "How romantic."