Chapter 27

Weeks passed. These weeks turned into months, and the months became the number of seven. Shinji had travelled all across the United States and across the Atlantic Ocean to England and the rest of Europe. While travelling, he had used the name Azrael on most of his hotel receipts when he stayed at one. Usually, he just found a deserted section of a park and slept outdoors. When a full moon came, Shinji made sure that he was as isolated as possible from humans.

Now, Shinji was back within the borders of the United States. He sat on the plane that was on its final approach to Los Angeles International Airport and reflected on some of his experiences during his last few months.

Travelling across the United States had been mostly fun. He had driven his Corvette from west coast to east coast, and then had it freighted back to L.A. After that, he had hopped a plane across the pond to London, England, where he happened to run into Spike. Spike was on an assignment for Angel Inc., and Shinji's arrival gave him an excuse to take a brief break from it to show the new kid in town around to all of the popular pubs and bars. Shinji got drunk for his first time that night, and found out the next morning the exact definition of "hangover". He puked his guts out behind a bush in the park he was sleeping out in.

The following few weeks weren't nearly as much fun. As he left the British Isles, he was nearly assassinated by an agent of the Moonwatcher's Council. This agent found out the hard way about Shinji's temper and lack of enthusiasm for nearly being killed. From then on, Shinji had had to stay one step ahead of his pursuers. He slept little, and stayed on the run for most of his days. The few agents that Shinji did happen to ensnare offered little information about where their Council was based and how Shinji might find them.

In Romania, Shinji happened to encounter a gang of vampires that actually offered to help him find the Moonwatchers. When Shinji followed them to a place they said might be a meeting place for the Council, he instead walked into an ambush laid by several agents of the Council. One of the agents managed to slash Shinji with a sword whose blade had been laced with silver. Shinji's back now bore a large scar from that wound. It had surprised Shinji at first that he had not been able to completely heal that wound as he had other wounds. After some thought on the subject, Shinji realized that since silver is the only substance that can kill a werewolf, it made sense that a wound inflicted by a silver weapon would not heal like a mundane wound would.

Shinji's constant companion, the voice of Azrael in his head, helped him sense where there were a few werewolf colonies settled in remote areas of Eastern Europe. When Shinji had met with them, they could only offer him legends about their kinds breeding patterns. They gave him little hard evidence or advice about how to trace his lineage. So, discouraged and tired of being hunted, Shinji decided to return to Los Angeles and resume his life there. As the plane touched down on the runway, Shinji remembered what Azrael had said to him the night before he had left on his trip.

How do you know they will still love you when you return?

"I don't know," Shinji muttered as he stood up to disembark.

Out in the airport terminal, Shinji pulled out his cell phone and dialed in the phone number for the freight company he had used to ship his Corvette back to L.A.

"Hello" he said when the line picked up, "this is Shinji Ikari. I used your service to ship a 1977 Corvette Stingray across country from New York City to Los Angeles. Can you have it sent to Los Angeles International Airport so I can drive it home, please? You can? How long will that take? Another thirty minutes? Yeah, I can wait. No problem. Thanks."

Shinji hung up the phone. He made his way over to a newsstand and picked up a paper.

"Seven months," he murmured, "Where did the time go? I guess time flies when you're being hunted like an animal."

"You are an animal," came a gruff voice from behind Shinji. He turned around fast to see a man standing there in a trench coat and fedora. The hat was pulled down low over his face, hiding most of his features.

"Who are you?" Shinji demanded.

"We've met before," the man replied, "Do you remember? Months ago, you were accessing Moonwatcher Council files. I warned you to desist, lest it be taken as a threat and you be hunted down. You refused. You have been searching for us these past few months, and we have been hunting you as well."

"You were the one who sent me that creepy chat message," said Shinji, remembering, "Are you the one who sent all those assassins after me?"

"That was the Council's doing, not mine," the man said defensively, "I merely wish to study you; alive if possible. Thus far, you have made it abundantly clear that you have no desire to be taken alive."

"I only want to be left alone," Shinji said clearly, gripping his pack tighter, "Why can't you fanatics understand that? I've never hurt or killed anyone who didn't attack me first. I just want to live like a normal man. Werewolf is part of who I am, but I was raised as a human for my whole life. I just want to find my family; where I come from. I was raised as a foster child. I've never known my parents. My mother's dead, and my father abandoned me."

"As sad as that story is," said the man coldly, "That kind of sympathy is not something the Council sees fit to bestow upon your kind. You are vermin, to be exterminated wherever found."

"Who are you?!" Shinji demanded angrily.

"There is no reason to cause a scene," said the man coolly, "If it is so important to you, Azrael, you may call me by my name: Rokubungi."

"Is that your real name, or just an alias given to you by the Council?" Shinji asked.

"Is Azrael your real name, or is it just an alias that you've given yourself?" Rokubungi countered.

"You're right," Shinji replied, "It doesn't matter what you call yourself, because you're not sticking around long enough for it to make much of a difference. You're going to leave me alone to go about my business."

"And just what is your business?" Rokubungi asked. He raised his head, finally, and looked at Shinji. Shinji got a good look at the man's face, or, at least the part of it that wasn't shaded by the hat's wide brim. His chin was stubbly and rough, he looked like he hadn't shaven in at least a week. His mouth was curled into a defiant sneer, but Shinji noticed immediately a strange similarity between his own mouth and this man that he had never seen before.

It can't be, Shinji thought resolutely. He turned on his heel and walked quickly towards the exit.

Outside the terminal, Shinji found a truck that belonged to the freight company. He walked up to the driver and asked about his car.

"You Shinji Ikari?" the driver asked.

"The one and only," Shinji responded, trying to sound jovial and friendly.

"Can I see some I.D.?" the truck driver asked.

"Sure," Shinji answered, pulling out his driver's license.

The driver looked it over and handed it back to Shinji.

"This way," he said.

The man pulled up the back hatch door of the box van and pulled out a ramp. Shinji stepped up into the van and found his black beauty waiting for him. Shinji climbed into the car and dug into a small slice in the cushion of the driver's seat, where he had hidden his ignition key. He put the key back into the ignition switch and turned it. The vehicle's V-6 engine rumbled to life and Shinji backed it down the ramp and onto the road. He leaned his head out the window of the car.

"Thanks for taking care of my car, man," Shinji said.

"No biggie," the truck driver replied, "Take care."

Shinji waved a dismissing hand. Then, he pulled out from the curb, bound for his home in the cul-de-sac. He wanted badly to see Misato's face again. The whole time he had been away, he had thought about what she and he had said. The more he had thought about it, the more he had realized that Misato had not meant any harm, and that he, himself was as much to blame for the way things had turned out as Misato. When he had walked into the Council's ambush in Romania, and any of the various other death-traps that they had set up for him, he kept thinking about Misato's smile and the warmth of her lips, and how much he wanted to live in order to see those things again. These thoughts also kept him warm on those cold nights in Northern Europe when he had slept out on remote hills to avoid detection.

Shinji pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and turned it over in his hand as he drove. He contemplated calling Misato and telling her that he was on his way home. No, he thought, better to save that for a surprise. He instead dialed the number for Angel Investigations.

"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless," Angel's voice answered, "How can we help you?"

"Hey, Angel, what's up?" Shinji asked.

"Shinji? Is that you? How've you been?" Angel asked, "Spike said he saw you over in London a few months ago."

"Yeah, he did," Shinji replied, "Since then, I've been chased by those Moonwatcher goons."

"I warned you," Angel said seriously, "They're dangerous."

"No shit, Sherlock," Shinji replied sarcastically, "Listen, I need you guys to do me a huge favor."

"Name it," said Angel.

"Could one of you head over to Misato's and check things out?" Shinji asked, "You don't need to interact with any of them, and if they should happen to see you, don't tell them that it was me that sent you. Just tell them that you were in the neighborhood. I won't get back into that neck of the woods for another couple of hours, especially if this traffic doesn't improve. I just met another one of the Council's bogeys in the airport terminal, and I'm concerned for Misato and Rei."

"Consider it done," said Angel, "Anything else?"

"No, that's it, I think," Shinji said, "Thanks, Angel. I owe you big-time."

Shinji hung up the phone and shifted his attention back to the traffic on the road. It was just past evening rush hour and while it wasn't bumper-to-bumper, traffic was still pretty thick. Shinji estimated that it would be past sundown until he got back to the cul-de-sac. Being that it was February, sundown was near the six o' clock, so he wouldn't be home too awfully late. Since the nights were longer during the winter, Shinji had had more time to be Azrael.

Shinji's time estimation wasn't far off the mark. At approximately 6:45 pm, Shinji wound his way past Jackson Avenue to the cul-de-sac that he had called home. Shinji looked longingly at the house that loomed larger and larger in his view. Moments later, Shinji pulled up to the curb and climbed out of his car. He had passed Angel's Impala at the far end of the block, so he knew that someone was still here.

"Angel? Spike? Anyone around?" Shinji asked.

"You're back," said Angel, dropping out of one of the trees, "Good. How's it feel to be back in your own neighborhood?"

"Better than I thought it would," Shinji replied, "Have you been up there since I called you? It was daylight, wasn't it?"

"We took shifts," said Angel, "Illyria watched the house until night fell. I've only been here for about half an hour."

"Well, you can leave now," Shinji said, "Thanks Angel. Relay my thank you to Illyria, as well. I owe you guys."

"Nah. This was our pleasure," Angel grinned, shaking Shinji's hand, "Now…go and win back your lady's heart."

Shinji smiled. He and Angel separated and went their ways. Shinji walked up to the front door of the house and rang the doorbell and waited. He stood there for nearly five minutes, but no one came down.

Strange, Shinji thought, I know she's home. Maybe it's time for me to sneak back into my room.

Shinji walked around the house and into the back yard. He was greeted by the old, familiar sight of Misato's swimming pool and the surrounding area. Shinji was surprised to see lights on in the hot tub house. He carefully crept across the yard and around the side of the tub house. Shinji slowly peeked through the glass door of the hut to see who was inside. Shinji smiled and peeled off his shirt. Next, he dropped his pants and quietly opened the door.

Inside, Shinji found Misato lounging in the Jacuzzi with her eyes closed. By her lack of reaction when he opened the door, Shinji judged that she hadn't heard him enter. He crept slowly over to the side of the tub.

"We've gotta stop meeting in here," Shinji said loudly.

"Wha—Who's—," Misato sputtered.

Her eyes fell on Shinji, standing there in only his boxers, and widened to the side of dinner plates. Shinji's hands shot to his ears as Misato let out a scream of surprise and glee.

"You're back! Oh, my god!" Misato cried, practically dragging Shinji into the tub with her. Shinji decided to go along with her, and climbed into the bubbling water. Once there, Misato pulled Shinji into one of her bone-crunching bear hugs, pressing herself tightly against him. Shinji smelled her; so soft, so gentle, so…intoxicating. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked the smooth skin of her bare back.

"You still sit in here naked?" Shinji asked jokingly.

"I keep hoping you'll come out and stop me," Misato replied, "I missed you. God, I missed you so much!"

Misato pressed her lips hard against Shinji's. Startled at first by Misato's ardor, Shinji quickly recovered and responded with equal ardor. Misato soon straddled Shinji's lap and continued to kiss him fiercely. Shinji's hands found their way up along Misato's body to her ample bosom and began to squeeze and knead.

"Let's move this back to where it belongs," Shinji growled.

"Your bedroom or mine?" Misato whispered back.

"Mine," Shinji replied, "The bed's bigger."

"That'll be a good thing," Misato moaned.

A.N.: Ssssssmokin'! You can bet there'll be some "making up" being done between our heroes now! Just as a point of reference, Shinji is going to carry Misato up through his window and directly into the bedroom. Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter! There'll be more, just as soon as I finish writing it!