Emerald eyes glared at the heavens, the reason for his displeasure clear in the form of dark clouds flocking over the industrious city like vultures gathering at a kill. Turning away he shook his head to clear it of the morbid thought before realizing that while he had been trapped in contemplation, Akihiko had continued on. The silverette was now stopped at the corner of the block, looking back at the automaton with a clear question written in worried eyes.

"Misaki?" the valet hurried to catch up.

"There's to be a storm tonight."

"Oh? That bad?"

"Yes, I can feel it in my joints."

"You sound like an old man." There was a pause as Misaki fell into step behind the noble as was proper for his position. The hand gripping the basket he had brought for the market tighter, bleaching his knuckles and digging the imprint of the twisted wood into his palm. He silence continued for so long that Akihiko began to think he wasn't going to get a reply before it came in the form of an almost nonexistent whisper.

"But I am an old man, Usagisan."

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They could hear the market long before they actually emerged onto the square, the clamor of farm animals and the shouts of vendors drowning out the sharp rap of Akihiko's walking stick and the steady click of their heels on the cobble street.

Life teemed around the two as the press of humanity threatened to separate them. The curious noble's attention was in no time claimed by the many inventions and machines as they pressed their way past the row dedicated to science students and their radical new ideas. To their right, a man dressed in what was obviously his Sunday best shouted above the crowd from his platform on a brightly coloured stage. Next to him danced a prettily painted doll, the female's jerky movements and the giant key in her back showing plainly her mechanical nature. In the split second Akihiko took to listen to the man, he learned that the automaton was made to serve as much on stage as in a customer's bed. At this discovery his interest was immediately lost, the warm tugging on his hand promising more pleasure than any cold machine.

The next stall was practically overflowing with whizzing gears and pumping pistons, the unfortunate stall owner racing about trying to catch his runaway gadgets as a crowd of small boys, some with bags of roasted chestnuts, formed a huddle around what appeared to be a pint sized barber on wheels. Armed with a comb and scissors the contraption fought bravely against the prodding sticks of the street urchins as a red faced stall owner fought to reach his precious invention in time.

That stall too rapidly disappeared from his line of sight. Another jerk to his hand lead him weaving through the bustling crowd, the only glimpse of his guide being a quick flash of a brunette mop before his attention was once more grabbed by the miniature stage on his right. Amethyst eyes watched in amusement as what appeared to be a troupe of white mice garbed in gaily coloured tutus performed an intricate array of trapeze acts and tightrope walks. The pint sized circus even had two mice whizzing around the base of the stage in a toy car. Akihiko observed with interest the small cage atop each of the rodents white heads, the metal bars surrounding what looked to be a little glass dome glowing green and flashing with every button their ring leader pushed on the wire crowded hand-held on which he was concentrating all his attention. He seemed to be focusing on it so much that the poor inventor missed entirely the utterly delighted orange cat that had leapt merrily onto the small stage and had begun chasing the terrified performers.

His attention to this small piece of chaos was quickly broken at the feel of something soft landing upon his face. Looking up, his eyes widened at the sight of a woman's form impossibly twisted as she hung suspended from a single silk rope. With unearthly grace she maneuvered herself in a dance fifty feet above the ground, her body flowing seamlessly from one pose to another. Akihiko winced as her legs twisted in a way that looked unbelievably painful but at the same time as effortless as breathing.

"Come on Usagisan, we're almost through." And indeed they were. Like a cormorant breaking free of the river they reached the end of the crowd to the market beyond. Akihiko half turned to look back at the crowd as Misaki paused next to him to catch his breath. Unbeknownst to both of them their hands continued to be joined. "Bloody hate crowds." The taller looked down at his vertically challenged companion.

"Afraid of being stepped on?" The brunette shot his master a nasty glare.

"At least I'm not gawking at every newfangled contraption made by those dime a dozen halfwits who fancy themselves great inventors."

"Dime a dozen? Are we using American slang now?" Misaki opened his mouth to protest. "Careful with your tongue. If I didn't know better I'd say you were jealous."

"Am not!" With an amused smirk the younger pulled his companion closer until warm breath tickled over the shell of a rapidly reddening ear.

"Worry not mon petit. The beauty of your fine mechanics and finer features soars above all others in terms of pedigree. You do your brother proud." The smirk had not disappeared as the aristocrat drew back satisfied at his work. The effects of his rich husky voice were clear as before him his lover stood, eyes darkened with lust and trembling lips parted as though waiting to be plundered by their other half. The vision before him lasted too briefly as Misaki forcefully shook his head and, before turning around to proceed to the vegetable stands, delivered Akihiko a displeased scowl. The recipient knew better, for he had spied the longing and desire shimmering just below the surface of those forest green pools.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The sight of a noble following the orders of a younger servant must have been amusing to the growing audience at the street markets and Misaki was quickly losing patience as he attempted to communicate his purchase with a furiously giggling apple seller. If the woman would only shut up and listen he could move onto the last thing on his list but no, the blithering idiot woman kept collapsing into a fit of unending giggles every time the automaton opened his mouth to speak. Above them the sky was now darker than ever and he wanted nothing more than to get Akihiko home before the storm hit. But no, apparently the sight of his master dressed in a neat charcoal over coat and beaver skin hat was too much to bear for some people. If someone didn't do something soon he was going to strangled the confounded dimwit and be on his merry way.

Akihiko of course wasn't helping in any way with his charming smile and demure pose behind the valet, temporarily holding the grocery burdened basket as Misaki tried in vain to make the apple tart for tonight's dessert something more than a whimsical fancy. It was at this point that Akihiko finally took pity on his struggling servant and stepped up to the booth.

"Excuse me miss." The woman's giggles instantly silenced as so many had before when faced with the Usami charm. "We would like to purchase some of your apples and we're in a bit of a hurry you see…"

"Oh, yes of course. 5p please." After handing the airheaded red faced woman her money Misaki briskly turned on his heel and stomped away from the stand, but not before grabbing the basket from Akihiko. Effortlessly, said noble fell into step behind the disgruntled man. The next few minutes were spent in silence until Misaki could bear it no longer.

"I don't understand!"

"Don't understand what?"

"You! And your effect on us poor innocent civilians! I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be some kind of incubus or something! You are an incubus aren't you and you've trapped all of London under your spell! That must be it! There is no other explanation!"

"Are you done?"

"Hardly, but anything I say is pointless isn't it."

"Quite."

"It's still not fair." Akihiko flashed his partner a blinding smile.

"Life isn't fair." Misaki stared hard it the taller, his arms crossed in front of a narrow chest, the basket hanging limply at the crook of an elbow.

"You're laughing at me."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are! Inside! You can't feel me! I can tell!"

"If you insist."

"Oi! Don't walk away when I'm talking to you." Just then Misaki's view of the other's broad back as he strolled forwards, carelessly twirling his cane, began to tilt as something heavy collided with his back with bone jarring force. Before he could do anything the cobblestones of the street were rushing towards his face and too late he threw his arms in front of him sending the basket of groceries flying. With a yelp and a tangle of limbs his front connected with the hard stones, his momentum on impact increased by whatever had knocked into his back.

The next few seconds were chaos as the automaton attempted to right himself and relieve his back of the pressure that was slowly but surely grinding his sheathed wings into his tender shoulder blades. Giving up any attempts at obtaining a vertical state he instead managed after much struggle to twist around so that he was face up and able to discover just what it was that had so rudely put him in this uncomfortable position. Emerald eyes immediately locked with those of dull brown before his face was promptly covered in brunette tangles similar in shade to his own coffee locks. Furiously spitting out the foul strands he managed to utter the first thing his befuddled mind could come up with.

"Git off! You're heavy!" His immediate reward was a stunningly powerful slap to the face. From behind him the sound of an amused snort met his ringing ears.

"That is no way to address a lady!" Cracking open one pain-glazed eye, Misaki's sight was met with what looked to be a shapely brunette straddling his hips in such a way that the woman's earth toned skirts had hiked up considerably. To Misaki's dismay his eyes were greeted with the sight of one shapely thigh sporting the strap of a garter attached to a much worn striped stocking. The poor automaton's face immediately exploded in a brilliant tomato red hue when the fact finally registered that she was lacking any sign of pantaloons. Without further ado he threw her off in an attempt to escape the compromising position.

Both brunettes sat there in the street, one attempting to recover from a sudden sensation of being airborne, the other from a most unexpected sight. It was then that Akihiko chose to intervene in the form of two strong hands reaching down to hook under his valet's arms and pull the still dazed figure up. Recovering quickly the "lady" too rose, revealing herself to be even shorter than Misaki.

"Well I never! In all my days I have yet to be treated worse than what you sir, have just done to me! I demand an apology this instant!"

"Wait a second; you're the one who—!"

His words were cut off as a sudden yank to his collar sent him pitching forwards out of Akihiko's arms. His forehead quickly found its home against another's as fire shot from narrowed brown eyes into his own startled green. Misaki gulped nervously at the front row seat to the woman's primal snarl.

"Apologize. Now." Her words were a low hiss, sending a shiver down his spine although that might have been more the result of the scantily clad, ample bosom firmly pressing into his own. He was a veteran soldier damn it! He would not be threatened in such away! Especially by the one who had sent that week's vegetables flying into the gutter.

"No." With the force of a steam engine a fist found its home in his gut, sending him careering backwards into Akihiko's solid frame. Despite the fact that Misaki knew she was shorter than him, with her feet spread in what was clearly a practiced fighting stance, and roughened hands planted firmly on wide hips, coupled with the generous chest firmly jutted out for the world to see, made the automaton feel the size of a mouse as he staggered into Akihiko's arms.

"Apologize." His answer had to be forced out between multiple hacks as his lungs attempted to recover after having the wind so forcefully knocked out of them.

"You apologize, you bloody tart!" He was just able to block in time as a pointy toed high heeled boot flew at lightning speed towards his vulnerable manhood. There was a high pitched yelp as with both hands he pulled on the leather laced ankle. It is hard to say who was most thankful when the sudden tumble to the ground did not sent the strange girl's skirts any higher than her upper thigh. As a string of foul language came from the brown mess of hair and skirt in front of him, Akihiko, seeing that his servant had gained the upper hand, released Misaki from his grip.

"I'll just…pick up the groceries." His words went unheard as Misaki responded to the woman in a shout whose nature equaled that of the muddy spitfire. Turning around Akihiko's violet eyes were met with the sight of a disheveled blond on her hands and knees as she worked furiously to stuff all of Misaki's hard earned purchases into a steadily growing burlap sack.

"Oi! Leave those alone!" With a surprised squeak she was on her feet revealing herself to be at the most a few centimeters taller than the silver haired man's servant. Behind Akihiko the screaming match fell silent as both sides, along with the crowd which had gathered at the disturbance, trained their eyes on the thief. Said thief cocked her head and with a flirty grin shifted the sack into one hand and over her shoulder. To Akihiko's bewilderment her other hand drifted down to gripped the hem of the colorfully stained camisole which made up the entirety of her outfit.

"Polly! Don't you dare—!" But Polly did dare. Quick as a flash the blond puller her hand up revealing to the some parts pleased and some parts horrified audience her astonishing lack of undergarments.

The exhibition lasted no more than a second though before the blond dropped her hem, spun on her heels, and disappeared down a side alley.

"Misaki!"

"Y-yeah?"

"That was our groceries."

"WHAT!" The noble's calmly delivered line was all that was needed to separate the two brunette opponents from their hair pulling, nail scratching, squabble on the street. As one they shot up and took off after the runaway blond.

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Misaki frowned. Up ahead he could see the loosely flowing hair of the blond as she half ran half danced between empty barrels and over discarded rubbish. They were well into the slums of London now and still the chase carried on even as the buildings on each side closed in upon them and the skies above grew darker with threatened rain. His frown deepened as thoughts of leaving his rabbit alone for any longer gave him another burst of speed, and the willowy figure of the blond grew closer. Beside him, attempting in every way to impeded his progress ran the harlot. Somewhere along the way she had acquired a broom and the ex-soldier continually found himself having to alternate between ducking and jumping over the wooden pole. Throughput the journey the woman's loud threats never ceased, although the subject of her words alternated frequently.

"Polly! Do you hear me? When I get a hold of you I'm going to pull out your bloody brains through that cute little nose of yours with those god damn eyebrow tweezers you're so fond of! Polychrome! Do you hear me?!" There was a giggle from up front as the curvy girl paused in her bellowing long enough to swing the broom handle at Misaki. "And you! Wouldn't you just stay put for a bleedin' minute! I haven't finished with you yet!"

It was then that Misaki decided he had had enough and with a silent apology to Akihiko and a promise to pay the man back he swiftly shed first his coat, then his waistcoat, and last his favorite cream shirt, the one he had starched just yesterday. He was bare from the waist up, the metal heart on his chest glinting in the light of a passing lanterns, the sheaths for his wings apparent to anyone who would look.

"'Ey! Why are you stri—?!"

With a snap, majestic wings expanded just as the swollen clouds finally found they could hold their burden no longer. A torrent thundered down between the brick walls on either side of the alley, soaking it's occupants in seconds. None paid it any mind, as synthetic feathers aligned and in an instant Misaki was aloft, riding the invisible air currents between the buildings. Every powerful flap and bright whirl of gears sent water droplets cascading down like sparkling diamond, each one catching the light in their own unique way. Chocolate strands plastered themselves to rosy cheeks as emerald eyes lit up with an internal fire fueled by the sheer joy of flight after being too long earthbound. Adrenaline sang through his veins and like a missile he sped down the alley, the trash and filth of the street never touching his pale form. A hysterical cry rang out from behind him.

"POLLY! DUCK!" To his delight the blond instead chose to turn around to find the cause of her friend's distress. In that instant Misaki turned his body sideways, and like a swallow diving towards the surface of a river, he swooped down between Polly and the alley wall, and when he rose up again, it was with the burlap sack clutched tightly to his chest.

Rain hammered like bullets against his cheeks but he did not stop, instead with each flap he increased his speed as he rocketed towards the mercury clouds, until the buildings below him were reminiscent of doll houses, and the people nothing more than land bound flies.

It was only then that he stopped and chose to hover, a mere meter or two below the cloud line. With a whooping laugh he threw his head back, allowing a spray of water to fly in an arch from his near black hair, and like the sea finally bursting through a dam the laugher rose up from inside him and exploded into the air. His eyes closed in sheer bliss at the feel of icy water flooding down to caress his cheeks and stream down his exposed collarbone. Dark hair curled around the base of his neck creating a path for the water to flow down and around the metal projections on his back. A shiver coursed down his spine but he welcomed it with delight. The corroding fingers of the polluted city fell from his body and his heart found itself beating freely. Nothing in the world rivaled the breath taking pleasure of flight. His clockwork body sang to the heavens in thanks for the shrouding curtain of water which allowed him this small freedom because, for the first time, in a very very long time he felt alive. Well and truly alive.

As his cheeks began to ache from grinning and his fingers to lose feeling from the cold he finally opened his eyes and looked down upon the winding, twisting roads of London. It took him less than a second to find his destination before turning himself in that direction and in a flash of metallic light, he was off. Because too be honest, he couldn't wait. After all, in his opinion at least, three days, eight hours and twenty seven minutes could not pass faster.

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The ship was there. Hanging suspended and silent just below the wispy reach of the clouds, invisible and overlooked by the residents of the empire's greatest city. Mirrors, enhanced and bent in just the right way, a technique adapted and honed through months of bloodshot eyes squinting at hurriedly scribbled equations, balanced with precision and fine-tuned to perfection all under the light of a singular burning gas lamp. Now those very same mirrors helped to repel the rain, giving golden eyes a clear view of the city, spread out like a banquet before its king. And a king this man was, if the strong set to his jaw and the regal nature of his shoulders were anything to go by. It was as easy to imagine him in a sparkling gold crown with a rich minx cloak as it was to imagine that same gaze and posture coming from a wild jaguar as it rested atop a high tree branch, ready to pounce at a moment's notice upon a poor unsuspecting gazelle.

Molten, burning amber eyes, framed by rich midnights locks saw and processed all. Not a detail went unobserved, certainly not a detail as significant as a half-naked boy streaking not ten feet from where he stood upon the rich wine red carpet of his sitting room.

Beside him his companion gave a small cry of surprise at the sudden appearance of the winged anomaly. Eyes green as Caribbean waters flew wide in shock and the figure jumped from their relaxing seat on the red velvet couch.

"What in the bloody hell was that?!" Sitting down the black haired man beside him took a tranquil sip from his gold rimmed wine glass.

"It appeared to be a flying boy."

"I know that!"

"Then you shouldn't have asked." The glass made a small click as it was set down on a passing silver tray before said tray rolled away again, puffing steam as it went.

"But—!"

"But you want to learn more."

"I—!"

"Excellent. So do I." And with a smile that could only be described as dangerous, the taller man leaned forward till his elbows found their place on his black, silk clad knees, the tips of his fingers pressing together creating a resting place for his chin. Suddenly, with a great bound, the man was on his feet in an instant startling the other man almost as much as the half bird half boy had. There was no time for him to be shocked though, for immediately upon finding his feet the towering figure of his captain was moving away with long, powerful strides, barking orders as he went.

"You there. Track him on the radar. Yes you! Don't stand there gawking. And you, bring down the map of Kensington's streets, he was going in that direction."

"Aye captain!" There was a sudden bustling of activity as all hands worked to locate the mysterious boy's destination. The brunette from the couch scampered up to the captain's side.

"Wait, does this mean—?"

"Yes my love, that is correct." The tall frame of the man bent slightly to plant a kiss upon befuddled lips. "There is to be a new treasure added to my collection."

Under the caress of a large hand the boy with eyes of the sea felt a shiver travel down his spine, as he clearly read the promise painted out in smoldering golden eyes.

So hope you people don't mind the O.C.'s, or rather O.C. One's character I stole from somewhere else.

CONTEST!

If you can find out which one, where's she from, and what her favorite food is (just so that I know you didn't google her) I'll dedicate the next chapter to you. And boy is it going to be an exciting one. Here's a hint: I will not be adding her to the disclaimer (Which reminds me, I don't own Junjou Romantica) because the place she's from is out of copyright.

Anyways, if the involvement of an O.C. is too much for you and totally turns you off to my story, then know this. The girl plays a necessary part in the plot later, and if you know me I rarely do anything that does not in some way pertain to the plot. Or at least I try too. Anyways, if you're absolutely against my O.C. know that without her Misaki dies in the future because I can't think of any way to save him without the O.C. Anyways, I like my O.C. and I've had a crappy couple of days. Two days ago I found out my girlfriends only been dating me out of pity and yesterday I spend a fun afternoon having some bonding time with paramedics and later lying in pain, unable to move, till I finally passed out around 4 in the morning. Which really sucked because I just got a new book on the Victorian's that I wanted to read but that would involve turning pages and focusing on print. I couldn't even focus on Librivox which practically killed me. Which is also the reason I did not have this up two days ago. Sucks for you.

Anyways, I'm looking forward to see if anyone actually can guess her origins.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.