Author: Hoshino Yumeko

Email: ShiniFerret@aol.com

Title: The Coffee-Bean Incedent: Aya's Story

Type: Comedy. Right now a one-shot, but if I get inspired, I may write a whole bunch of these.

Teaser: Weiß has a busy week, and Aya gets himself high on caffeine while trying to finish some floral arrangements.

Rating: PG, PG-13

Spoilers: Any Spoilers in fic, preferably with Episode # Warnings: Warnings for your fic, such as: Shonen Ai, Yaoi, Strong Language, Mild Language, Lime, Lemon, etc. (See Below please)

Warnings:

Keywords For Your Fic: Funny; Hyper A-yan; that's about all I have so far...

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CH. 1--Title?! We Don't No Stinking Title!

Omi unsuccessfully tried to blow his bangs out of his face as he carried yet another armful of Ingrid Bergman roses to the front of the store. "Hey, guys, do you need more baby's breath?"

His simple inquiry was met by a resounding chorus of "YES!" from the other frazzled florists of Kitty in the House. They were almost up to their elbows in red roses, delicate white baby's breath and ferns.

"How's the patient doing, Doctor?" the genki youth joked as he neatly laid down the red rosebuds he'd been carrying. His jest was met by a triad of annoyed gazes: firey emerald-green, misty-purple and amber-brown eyes promised pure hell if he didn't either shut up or get busy. "Ummm... I'll just go grab the baby's breath," he murmured, suddenly remembering why he never talked to the other guys during a week like this.

"No. No, Omi-kun, let *me* get it..." Ken muttered. "*You* help Aya and Youji. I *insist*." His last comment was said through near-gritted teeth. Apparently work was coming along slowly...

None of them were usually THAT irritable -- well, except for maybe Youji when he'd run out of cigarettes -- but they'd been having missions every night for four days straight, and even Aya was starting to show signs of strain from the sleep-deprivation. It also didn't help that they had to do arrangements for a funeral, wedding and big dinner-party that were all needed on Saturday.

Omi came out of his reverie and sighed. It had been a long week, and it was only Tuesday. \\But such is the life of an assassin, I suppose...\\ he told himself. "Ne, Ken... You've been gone for a good bit of time now! It's not like this is rocket science! Just grab an armful of baby's breath and bring it up here!"

Ken sighed in aggrivation. "It's not here!" The 'you snotty little jerk' went unspoken but was there nonetheless.

"Not there?! Ken, for cryin' out loud, it's got its own shelf back there!" Youji got into the act of reading the soccer player the riot act as he lit up a much-needed cigarette.

"'Not here' as in the shelf is empty except for a piece of paper that says, 'Omi, note to self: Order more baby's breath!'"

"Ohh..." Omi said in an oddly strangled voice as he inched toward the front door. He didn't dare turn his back to the other assassins as he stutterred, "Umm... I-uh...Well, you see, I have to go, um... Oh, screw the excuse!" With that exclamation, he ran into the bright autumn afternoon sunlight to escape his angry teammates and the strain of being himself for just a few hours.



It was seven'o'clock in the evening by the time Omi quietly crept back into the flower shop. He tiptoed through the back door with a silence that was only acheived by the dead, those who make others dead or those who stole from the living/dead/didn't matter. "Hello, Omi....." Youji said in a low, toneless chuckle that only he could correctly execute... It sounded disconcertingly like Hannibal Lector...

The young blond winced at the sound of the playboy's voice. He was SO screwed.

"Hi, Youji." He tried to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible, despite the fact that his stomach was doing the twist.

Ken snickered and stood by Youji with his arms crossed over his chest. "Omi... You are *so* screwed."

"Ken, shut up." This was murmured in a bored, barely audible tone as Youji tightly clutched a cigarette between his lips and tried to get his lighter to actually work. "Oh, fer Pete's SAKE... Come ON... Friggin' lighter..."

"But-"

"Shut *u-up*."

"I'm just tellin' the tru-"

Sigh. "Ken.... Shut up! I'm being as patient with you as humanly possible, considering the circumstances." The tall blonde closed his eyes as the first cloud of nicotene and tar hit his lungs, as if it were a spiritual epiphany. "Mmmmm.... I need a drink...."

"What you NEED is to stop drinking and smoking so much..." Ken retorted sourly.

Youji raised one dark gold eyebrow as he regarded the brunette as if he'd just made a statement with the insanity level of Farfarello's usual schizophrenic ramblings. "Do you want to die tonight?" he said coolly. "Because I *can* arrange it."

Omi cleared his throat to draw the attention back to himself. "Guys...? I thought it was bitch-out-Omi-hour." He checked his watch. "Your next arguement's not due until at least nine..."

"Bishounen's right! We're supposed to be mad at HIM, not each other!"

"I'm still right..."

"Ken, shut up."

Omi coughed again. "So, you guys aren't TOO angry with me, are you?" He gave them his best 'Oh-look-at-me,I'm-so-cute-and-innocent' look as he acted as if he felt terribly guilty. In truth, he was just getting sick of Ken and Youji insulting each other.

Aya, who'd been quietly polishing Shion the whole time, looked down the blade's length. "Oh, only slightly..." His sarcasm was thick enough to slice with bugnuks.

Youji was in open-mouthed surprise for a few seconds. "He... he... SPOKE! And it was sarcastic! Funny! Humorous!" He was so surprised he actually forgot to insult Ken after ten seconds had gone by, and his cigarette dangled precariously from his fingers before he dropped it. "Damn!" He stomped it out before it really began to blacken the floor. "Dammit, Aya! Look what you made me do!"

The other three rolled their eyes at him, and Omi looked at his watch. "Oh, gee, look at the time," he monotoned 'regretfully.' It was bad acting and he knew it, but he'd do anything to shut *those* two up. "Mayhaps I should go check to see if Persia left us a message." He backed out of the room slowly, so as not to gain the attention of the most dangerous predators known to man: the Balinese, the Abbysinian and the Siberian. //Jesus, I've been watching too much of the Discovery Channel,// he told himself.

"Coward," Aya murmured to the door clicking shut behind the teenager. Briefly he wondered why he hadn't come up with that idea first.

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