Blood Dance Chapter 4: Part 4, a gundam wing/ac fanfic

Blood Dance —
Part 4
by Mina

Standard disclaimers for Gundam Wing apply. All characters from the Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter universe are the property of Laurell K. Hamilton. However the plot—I know, I know… 'What plot?!'—belongs to me.

Warnings: ::yawn:: No warnings needed for this fic. It's just a gentle, fluffy little tale of light-hearted banter and affection. ::blink, blink:: Whoa, where'd that come from?! Where's my medication? Need my medication! ::Mina scampers off to take her pills.:: Okay, all better! This fic contains foul language, G-boys in leather, bondage, blood, fur, fangs, vampires, faeries, lycanthropes, and a partridge in a pear tree.

P.S. And since this is a fic by me, it contains homosexual themes as well. ::eye roll:: Like I even needed to tell you that.

P.P.S Anou, just ta let ya know, there's a little note from me about this particular part at the end of the footnotes. I couldn't put it up here because it would give away what happens. ^_~

Posted: January 2001
Revised: August 2002

After walking down a darkened stairway and then a seemingly never ending tunnel that had more twists and turns than a Sidewinder—by the illumination of torch light, of all things—I was beginning to wonder if my B-rated monster flick comment hadn't been a little too accurate. We had the spooky, pale, silent guide up ahead, as well as my equally as strange friends—one of which I now knew had a pet demon, and another had something going on with the moon. The torchlight flickered off of the grey stones of the underground passageway, only helping to enhance the whole B-rated monster flick theory.

Of course, when Damian finally led us to the door at the end of the tunnel and opened it, my opinion changed drastically.

When I stepped through the doorway into that room at the end of the tunnel, it was like stepping into some sort of fairytale. Not the kind of fairytale that parents tell their little children, mind you, but I could definitely see an adult fairytale written about this. The room was a combination of Marquis de Sade, House of Style, Tokugawa Shogunate, and Middle-earth.

Seriously. I kid you not.

"Love the decor," Wufei said with a snicker, casting a glance back at me. I snickered right along with him; I was in perfect agreement.

The numerous half-naked bodies sprawled around it aided the appearance of the room. All right, so only about half of them were less-than-fully-clothed, but that half was half too many. Some of the people were in leather, some in silk, some in faded denim. There was one guy in a three-piece Armani suit in the far right corner, two men in elaborate hakama set-ups that were á la Tokugawa Shogunate samurai, and a girl in a little scrap of shimmering, nearly translucent cloth that I had absolutely no idea how to categorise.

Then again, I wasn't sure I wanted to try and categorise her and her skimpy attire.

"Gee, Duo, this looks almost like your room," Quatre commented, giving me a wicked grin. "Except with bodies in the clothes."

I casually flipped him the bird and made my way closer to Heero and Wufei. "So are we here to watch the mass orgy of…whatever…or are we moving on?" I asked, glancing briefly at our guide.

Damian smiled slightly at this and made a small gesture with his hand. "We will be continuing onward. My masters await you further inside."

A tiny little girl came racing into the room from the direction we'd come in, skidding to a halt on the stone floor. She placed her hands on her knees as she huddled over to try and catch your breath. After a moment she held her hand out to me, beaming up at me disarmingly. "I need your cross, please," she chirped.

I blinked. "My…what?"

"Your cross," she repeated. "You aren't allowed any further with your cross still in place. I would have grabbed you out in the café, but I really, really had to go to the bathroom. So, can I have your cross now, please?"

"Um, I guess." What could it hurt? It wasn't as if I'd really be facing vampires, as I'd teased Wufei about earlier, right? Right? With a sigh I undid the clasp, removed the chain, and re-hooked the clasp before handing it to her. "Here ya go."

"Thank you!" she said as she beamed up at me. She handed me a little stub, bowed very respectfully, and then dashed from the room.

Saying that that had been weird would have been an understatement. I glanced down at the little stub in my hand and fought off a snicker. 'Receipt for one holy cross' read the little white slip. Someone here definitely had a sense of humour.

Looking up from the slip of paper brought me back to the present, and I grimaced in remembrance. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know what was going on out in that front room. It looked a lot like necking, but in a 'mouth and throat muscles working like a Hoover' sort of way. As a matter of fact, I was becoming surer by the second that I didn't really want to know. "All right, let's get this mass menagerie on the road, then," I said with a grin. When feeling unsure, false-bravado your way through it, I always say.

Our guide pushed aside one of the elaborate tapestries that hung on the walls, revealing a heavy wooden door. He knocked twice softly, and a metal plate slid back to reveal a pair of bright, laughing blue eyes. "It's me," Damian said softly.

"Me, who?" the owner of the amused orbs asked, his humour evident in his voice.

A flicker of disgruntlement crossed Damian's beautiful, alabaster face. "Jason, if you don't open this door right now, I will force it open and then forcibly deal with you as well."

"Oh, Damian, do you promise?" the man on the other side of the door asked breathily. When Damian made a threatening move towards the door with a growl, the door slid back to reveal a short, slender man with thick, shoulder length blonde hair. He was laughing openly at Damian, one hand resting comfortably on a leather clad hip. "Come on in, honey," he said to Damian with a wink.

"I don't know why I put up with you, Jason," Damian growled with a shake of his head, sweeping past the shorter man without a backwards glance.

Jason looked over at us with a broad grin. I noticed that his silk t-shirt was a perfect match in colour for his eyes. "I apologise for Damian's sour behaviour," he said, motioning us through the doorway. "He's a bit testy until he gets his dinner."

"I heard that!" echoed down the corridor from in front of us.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Jason called back, "I was counting on it!" He pushed the door shut and turned back to our little group with an almost curious expression. "So you're the ones that the masters have been wanting to see. Well, come on. Since Damian's being a spoil sport, I'll take you to them."

Still keeping myself towards the rear of the group, we fell in step behind Jason. It seemed that I was doomed to yet another set of never-ending corridors; at least this group was lit by conventional lighting.

After what seemed like a half hour of walking down stairs and never-ending corridors, we came to a large antechamber. I hadn't a clue as to where the hell I was; as far as I was concerned, cardinal directions didn't exist and I could be somewhere in one of the Americas. Well, I might be exaggerating a little bit—we probably hadn't gone far enough underground to have ended up on the other side of the planet—but it seemed like we'd been walking for long enough to be on the other side of the planet.

"Here we are!" Jason declared with a cheery grin and a low, elaborate bow. We were standing before a set of extremely ornate double doors, complete with polished finish and wrought iron decorations.

To say I was having misgivings about this was an understatement. I was still in favour of running screaming into the night and forgetting about every strange thing I'd heard and seen. However, I had a feeling that the Powers That Be had other ideas.

…Yes, Fate, this means I still think you're a conniving bitch.

"Come on, Duo," Quatre said, latching onto my arm and drawing me forward. "It's not polite to keep our hosts waiting."

I rolled my eyes, allowing myself with much foot dragging to be drawn forward. Far be it for me to keep a bunch of weirdoes waiting. Why is it that no matter how strange he gets, Quatre always manages to pop up with his impeccable manners? "All right, let's go," I mumbled.

The doors opened before we quite got to them, and I was beginning to have B-rated monster flick suspicions all over again. As we stepped into the room, I could readily make out Jean-Claude behind the ornate desk to the back. Something about him just kind of…well, stood out, if you know what I mean. And I'm not just talking about the fact that he was pale as white marble, had inky black hair, and burning blue eyes, either. Anita was off to the side of him, speaking to a tall, dark-complexioned man. There was also a good-looking blonde man lounging like a big cat across one of the couches that stood off to the side of the room. Oh, yeah—the gorgeous redhead was already present as well.

Damian bowed to Jean-Claude. "I have brought the people you wished to see, Master."

Jean-Claude sighed, waving a graceful hand. "How many times have I told you not to call me Master, Damian?" he asked softly.

The redhead blinked a couple of times. "I believe I quit counting after the first couple of times, Jean-Claude."

"And that was how many hundreds of years ago, Damian?" the tall man who'd been speaking with Anita asked, flashing a lot of white teeth in a wolfish grin.

"Shut up, you," Damian muttered, eyes narrowing as he stalked across the room to take a seat beside the blonde.

Jason began to snicker at the sight of the pouting Damian. He threw me a wink just before he raced across the room in a blur—I'm not kidding you; I didn't even see the guy move—and jumped into Damian's lap, earning a startled yelp. "Hello, daaahling," the blonde drawled, beaming up at the taller man. "Did you miss me?"

I had to laugh as Damian developed a perfect 'Why me?' expression. Of course, the redhead didn't seem to be in any big hurry to remove Jason, I noticed.

Jean-Claude cleared his throat rather noisily, drawing attention back to himself. For some reason, I had a feeling that people usually had a hard time not paying attention to the man. And I was certain that it was more than the fact that he was downright sexy as hell. And if asked about that thought, I'd lie and tell you'd I never thought it. "Thank you for coming," he murmured politely. "I have asked you here, because I believe it is time that certain truths become known."

"And because it took me seventeen fucking years to find a certain someone," Anita growled from beside him, her arms crossed over her chest.

I don't know why, but for some reason I felt as though I should have been apologising for the inconvenience. Me…apologise? Yeah, right. It wasn't as though I'd asked her to find me or anything.

A slender black brow rose at Anita's interruption, but Jean-Claude seemed more amused than anything. "Yes, that is true, ma petite. I ask that you make yourself and your companions comfortable, Heero. We have much to catch up on."

I glanced at Heero curiously. How was it that he and Jean-Claude seemed to know so much about each other? Seeing the small smirk on Heero's face, which was mirrored by Jean-Claude, I wasn't so sure that I wanted to know.

"You heard the man," Heero said, turning back to me in particular. I felt like shaking my head and saying some sort of smart-ass remark, but none were readily forthcoming, and Heero grabbed my wrist and dragged me towards the couch at the opposite end of the room anyway. Apparently I wasn't to have much choice in the matter.

Kind of like the way most of my life had gone.

I found myself sandwiched between Heero and Wufei—I guess they weren't taking any chances that I might get up and make a run for it. Though how the hell I was supposed to find my way out of the underground labyrinth without ending up horribly lost was beyond me. Quatre sat on Trowa's lap, occupying the other end of the couch.

Anita hopped up onto the edge of Jean-Claude's ornate desk like a teenager without a care, crossing her ankles and gripping the edge between her hands. "I'll go ahead and make introductions. The tall guy with the Mediterranean-dark tan and too-white teeth is Richard, Jean-Claude's and my third. The blonde that looks too good to be real is Asher, an old friend. And you've already met Damian and Jason."

Jason laughed and blew me a kiss before going back to annoying Damian.

Anita sighed and rolled her eyes. I had a feeling that she was quite used to Jason's behaviour. "Now here's where you need to listen up—especially you, Duo."

My eyes went wide. "Me?" I repeated in shock, pointing to my nose. "Why me?" My opinion of Anita had yet to change—I was kind of warming up to her, but I still didn't really trust her—and the idea of being singled out by an unknown quantity was disturbing.

"Because you are the only one who knew absolutely nothing about the Shadowkind," Richard said, stepping forward so that he stood just behind Jean-Claude. I wondered if he was supposed to be intimidating. In a way, he kind of was considering the fact that he had to be over one hundred and eighty centimetres tall and had that football player kind of broadness to his shoulders. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to find out if the muscles were real or not, since I was betting they were.

"Well, that and the fact that I've heard you have a horrible attention span," Anita added, giving me a knowing and amused look.

I could have died right there. Great; a virtual stranger knew about my attention span. As it was, all I was able to do was hang my head and nod.

"Good," Anita said with a small smile. "Here's the deal, then. The world has had an awful time trying to figure out how the hell the five of you manage to stay alive. The Shadowkind, however, have started to catch on. They know about you, now, and it's only a small matter of time before some of the nastier factions begin to contact you in order to recruit you for their purpose."

There was a short pause in which she turned her gaze to Quatre. "I know that we don't really have to worry about you going to anyone else, Quatre, but your wolf…"

"Don't worry about that," Quatre told her reassuringly, his aqua eyes sparkling. He gently touched Trowa's face, fingers tracing the curve of cheek and jaw. "Trowa has always been my wolf to command and will be until I die. Not even the Master of Beasts could break my control."

It was almost as if a stunned silence had descended upon the room. I glanced around, curious as to what had caused the lack of speech. Just what was a Master of Beasts?

"Well, I must admit that is quite reassuring," Jean-Claude said after a moment. Anita nodded in agreement before continuing.

"Now, Wufei, as the last of your line to hold Shenlong, you do realise that many will come searching for you either to claim you or kill you?"

Wufei smirked, his eyes lazy as he nodded. "Of course, onna. There have always been those who have sought Shenlong, but any who find him will be in for a big surprise."

Anita and Wufei settled into a staring contest, obsidian eyes locked with dark chocolate brown. After several minutes, Anita's eyes went wide in shock and she gasped aloud. "You didn't," she whispered in dismay. "You couldn't."

"I can, and I have," Wufei said with a small laugh. "You should know, Executioner, that when it comes to survival, anything is possible. And when it comes to having to protect those most precious to you, small sacrifices are completely acceptable."

"I see," Anita whispered, glancing at Jean-Claude and Richard in question. Richard shrugged, glancing at Jean-Claude as well.

Jean-Claude sat like a statue carved from marble. There was no visible sign of breath, no betraying blink. Then, as if waking from a dream, he slowly smiled and shook his head. "Strange, is it not, mes amies? The first dhampire[1] in thousands of years, the first true shapeshifter, and these other three remarkable young ones have found each other in this time and place."

Okay, I was beginning to get worried. Since they'd already spoken to Quatre, Trowa—well, about Trowa—and Wufei, I had the sinking suspicion that Heero and I were the first two Jean-Claude had mentioned—and that really, really bothered me. For one thing, I hadn't a fucking clue what a dhampire was. For another, what was this 'first true shapeshifter' business? Was there some other kind of shapeshifter?

And then there was Jean-Claude's tone of voice. There had been something about his speech pattern that seemed familiar—I knew I'd heard him use the same tone earlier at some point. And when I glanced at Richard and Anita, I saw that the former was looking grimly at the back of Jean-Claude's while the latter was smiling as if nothing was peculiar in the least.

Curious…curious, and disturbing.

"It's not as though I'm a true-born dhampire," Heero said quietly beside me. "It was merely the end result of the gene-construct program used on me."

"But was it a mere whimsy that Jean-Claude's genes were used?" Richard asked archly, looking a little less sombre. "I think not. Jean-Claude is not only a Master vampire, he is a member of the most powerful Triumvirate remaining, as well as one of the last incubi left alive."

Now I really did want to just curl up and die. Heero was a dhampire—whatever the hell that was—and was, for all purposes, Jean-Claude's son. And Jean-Claude was, apparently, a vampire. I could literally feel myself going into shock.

"Hey, don't blank out on me yet," Anita said sharply, glaring at me for all she was worth.

I frowned, my eyes narrowing in anger. "And why the hell shouldn't I?" I retorted. "It's not like I owe you anything."

Her expression softened—I suspected that didn't happen often—and she smiled sadly. "You're right, Duo. You owe me nothing, but I owe you quite a bit. The biggest thing I owe you is your past and your heritage, and no matter how much you fight it, I'm determined to give them to you. Just ask them"—she hooked a thumb over her shoulder at Richard and Jean-Claude—"if you don't think I'm bull-headed enough to outlast even your stubbornness."

My past and my heritage… "What if I don't want to know?" I found myself whispering raggedly. "You know, they say ignorance is bliss."

Anita shook her head. "Not in your case, Duo. As I said before, in the world of the Shadowkind, power calls. Some will be smart enough to fear it, but others will crave it like an addiction—they'll crave you like an addiction. When you see the video I have of you as a child, you'll understand."

"Nothing too unusual there," I said dryly, answering her earlier comment. "People have always wanted me for one reason or another."

"Not like this," she said soberly. "Believe me; once you experience it first hand, you'll be glad that you know everything about yourself and what can you do."

"And just what can I do?" I asked curiously. Yeah, I know; curiosity killed the cat, and all that, but hell, I really wanted to know. After the weird night I'd had, it seemed only right.

Right?

"You, my friend," Richard began, leaning over Jean-Claude, "can become an animal that is all but extinct among the lycanthropes."

"You," said Jean-Claude, picking up where Richard left off, "can become a black leopard—without the necessity of the full moon."

I couldn't tell you what happened next because, much to my embarrassment, I abruptly blacked out.

When I woke up, I almost wished I hadn't. Because when I woke up, I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings, took in the conversations going on around me, and I remembered every fucking thing that had caused me to faint in the first place.

I considered pretending to still be passed out, but I had a feeling that I wouldn't be allowed to play dead for much longer anyway.

Everyone seemed to be engaged in an argument with someone else. From the snatches of conversation I caught, most of the arguments seemed to centre around me for some reason. Actually, there seemed to be one main argument going on; Quatre, Trowa, Heero, and Wufei were arguing rather fiercely with Jean-Claude, Anita, and Richard about whether or not to 'call my beast'—whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

You know, some days are better than others, some days worse; today had definitely gone past the bottom of the worst marker, at least for me. I wasn't sure what I had done to deserve the weird shit that was going on. Had I just been picked as the lucky guy, or was there something I'd done way back when to end up where I was? If there was something I'd done, I wanted a time machine to go back and fix it.

Bad, evil cosmic karma! Shoo, go away!

I was beginning to get pissed—scratch that; I was beyond pissed. What right did they have to sit there like I wasn't even present and discuss my fate? Last I checked, I was still free enough to fuck up my life myself, thank you very much. I didn't think that I needed anyone's help to do that.

"If this argument doesn't require my personal participation, I'd like to go upstairs to get something to drink," I said tightly when my four ex-friends—well, I guess they were still my friends, though it was becoming somewhat debatable—continued to quietly plot my fate with Anita, Jean-Claude, and Richard.

I didn't intend to stick around for an answer, but I stopped short of the door when I felt the burning weight of more than one glare between my shoulder blades—well, that and the fact that I'd stood up waaay too fast and was dizzy enough that I had to catch the door frame so I didn't fall flat on my face and embarrass myself even more. I turned around slowly, wondering what I was in for now.

Apparently, I was to be on the receiving end of four—all right, three and a half since Tro has that bang problem—Gundam Pilot Glares o' Death, which caused me to take a nervous step backwards. What can I say—I'm mostly sane and I value my life? Well, sometimes, anyway.

"Oi, minna, what's with the look?" I asked with a small laugh. When in doubt, involving a situation with suicidal/homicidal guerrilla terrorists who aren't human, act normal.

Whatever that was.

I blinked dumbly in shock when the reply came in a chorus of not three, but four voices. "Duo, don't get drunk!" Blinking again, I sighed and shook my head in amazement. At the risk of sounding cliché: do my friends know me or what?

"All right, all right, haha-ue-tachi," I muttered, turning to leave once again. Jason appeared at my side and offered to show me back to the café.

"This way you'll make it up there punctureless," he said with a grin as he led me back through the labyrinth of rooms and halls.

I kept glancing at him curiously out of the corner of my eye as he began to lead me back through the labyrinth. I knew that Jean-Claude was a vampire, and I was guessing that Damian and Asher were as well—chalk white skin, and all that. But I was a little at a loss as to just what Anita and Richard—and Jason—were. And I'd be a big liar if I said I wasn't the least bit curious.

"Ask, already," Jason said with a hint of exasperation, casting a bright blue gaze my way briefly.

"Okay. What the hell are you?"

Jason laughed at my wording, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Boy, you sure have a way with words. You remind me quite a bit of Anita, you know. Neither one of you stand on ceremony very much. As for what I am, I'm a lycanthrope, a werewolf like Richard. My family's been with Richard, Jean-Claude, and Anita for a very long time."

"So, what? Lycanthropism runs in the family or something?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. This was beginning to become an interesting topic of conversation.

"Not really," Jason said with a frown. "It's a very rare case in which a child is born with his or her parent's lycanthropic disease. The last three generations of my family have made the choice to take on the lycanthropy. My grandmother was a weretiger from the Bronx, and my grandfather was a psychic who picked up business with Jean-Claude—that's just on the one side. My other grandmother was a shape-shifting witch, and my other grandfather was an animator—and I'm not talking about a cartoonist. Don't worry, I'll explain in a minute; let me finish my family history story first. My father, son of the first set of grandparents, continued my grandfather's work as Jean-Claude's psychic, and my mother, daughter of the second set of grandparents, took on my other grandmother's disease and became a weretiger as well."

I boggled for a moment in confusion as I tried to process Jason's dissertation. "Then how the hell did you end up as a werewolf?" I asked in confusion.

"My great-grandfather was a werewolf," Jason said softly, a faraway look in his eyes. "It's kind of funny; his name was Jason, too."

Funny? Freaky, was more like it. "It doesn't seem strange to you that you both had the name Jason and you both ended up as werewolves?" I queried.

Jason shook his head. "Not really. You see, my great-grandfather didn't have a choice really. His lycanthropy was basically forced upon him by the local pack's lupa; she didn't tell him that she was a werewolf when she offered to let him screw her. But my lycanthropy is by choice. I don't see it as a curse as some do; I like who I am, what I am, and what I can do. And I don't serve my Triumvirate out of fear or forced loyalty, I serve them because I respect them and because they're the only hope that the Shadowkind have of eventually repealing Brewster's Law."

Hn. It sounded as thought Jason really did have his head screwed on right; he presented a rather intelligent argument, and I could kind of see where he was coming from. I'm not saying that I would voluntarily accept a disease that would turn me furry at the full moon, but I could understand why he had chosen to.

"Besides," Jason said with a grin, attempting to lighten the mood, "being pomme de sang can have a lot of exciting benefits. Especially since it's so fun to rile Damian."

"I noticed that you rather enjoy doing that," I drawled while translating in my head. Pomme de sang meant apple of blood; I was assuming that it was more a name for those that chose to feed the vampires rather than a literal meaning.

"Anyway, you were going to explain the word animator to me," I reminded him.

"That's right," Jason said, pausing in his tracks. He turned to me with a funny expression that I couldn't read. "You see, animator is also a term used for someone that can bring a semblance of life to the dead, someone that can raise zombies. That was my grandfather's talent—and it's Anita's talent, as well, though hers is much stronger. Anita is what we call a necromancer, because she has power over all types of the dead. She can raise vampires during the daylight, when their souls have left their bodies. She's… I don't know how to describe it. She's powerful and utterly amazing to watch in action, and I'm not afraid to admit that her ability scares the shit out of me."

I blinked a few times at his last statement. So Anita was not someone to be messed with. Well, I'd already basically decided that, but it didn't hurt to have a second opinion backing me up.

"So are all the lycanthropes here pomme de sang?" I asked Jason once we were on our way again. I wasn't really changing the subject, but I was trying to come up with something a little less scary to talk about. And I was actually quite curious about the internal goings-on of living with a vampire Master, and Jason was probably the best candidate to ask. Outside of the Master himself, that is, and there was no way in hell I was going to be doing that anytime soon. Let's just say that Heero's 'daddy' scared me just as badly as Anita.

"Nah," Jason said with a laugh, pale blue eyes flashing with similar humour. "Some of the lycanthropes think that it's degrading to allow ourselves to be used as a food source by the vamps. Of course, most of them avoid anyone non-lycanthrope like the plague."

"Guess there's racism in all types," I said with a small laugh.

"Oh, you've got absolutely no idea!" Jason said with a groan and a shake of his head. "Have Anita tell you the full story of what happened when Brewster's Law was implemented. It was the racism between Shadowkind that brought it about."

At least the Shadowkind had a small excuse when they fought, I thought bitterly. They were of several different species, after all. What kind of excuse did humanity have for their wars?

"Hey, kid, don't take things too hard, all right?" Jason said suddenly, grabbing my shoulder and giving me a little shake. "I know you think what Anita, Jean-Claude, and Richard were saying was a bunch of bullshit, but we all believe that it's really important for you to know. Richard wasn't kidding when he said that the lycanthrope pard is all but extinct. As far as we know, there are only six wereleopards left, and they all live with us. They'll want you meet you once they know that you've been found."

"Why's that?" I asked as we continued our winding journey.

Jason grinned and gave me a wink. "Oh, come on! You're the son of their most famous wereleopard. Nathaniel formed the bridge between the lukoi and the pard by breaking Anita of her shyness and getting her to use her power for the good of both lycanthrope groups. Not only that, but Nathaniel was something of a favourite among many of the vampires; they remember him with fondness, and have passed that fondness on to younger generations.

"Well, here we are."

I glanced up in surprise. Sure enough, we were back at the door that led from the underground labyrinth to the café. "Sankyuu," I said softly, reaching for the handle.

"Not a problem," Jason said with another quick grin. "Just remember what your friends said. I wouldn't want anyone to take advantage of you."

Now why would anyone want to go and do that? I thought with a wry smile as I stepped back out into the café. The cross check-in girl smiled at me before turning back to chatting animatedly with what I was assuming was customer. I walked to the other end of the bar, smiling at the young woman behind the counter.

"What can I get for you?" she asked softly, a hint of a European accent in her voice.

"Oh, something fruity," I said, letting my eyes slip halfway closed. "And if you manage to slip something alcoholic into it, I wouldn't exactly mind, if you know what I mean."

She nodded and smiled at me, a sweet, innocent smile that made me almost feel sorry for playing with her. "Okay!" she murmured, tossing me a very naughty wink.

Like I said, it made me almost feel sorry. She was a cute kid, I thought, with big dimples and wide, sparkling grey eyes. Not my type at all, but cute nonetheless. I bet that she had a hard time keeping the men and ladies away.

"Here you go, sir," she said, handing me a faintly orange-coloured drink.

"Why, thank you, my fair lady," I said with a wicked grin, sweeping her a bow that had her blushing. What can I say; I'm a born actor.

I took my drink and headed for an empty table in the far corner. I made sure that I had a clear view of all exits and entrances as well as the windows before I sat down.

It had been a strange night—hell, it had been a strange month and a half. And it seemed that it was all finally beginning to catch up with me. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I was kind of leaning towards the 'bad thing' end.

I didn't really want to see the video that Anita said she had of me, and yet…and yet, I did. I wanted to know about my past. I wanted to know what I had been like as a child, as I had no memory of those years.

"You look like you've had a bad night," a soft voice said from beside me.

I looked up from contemplating my drink and being lost in my thoughts, gaze caught and held by a pair of wide hazel eyes. The woman gave me a small smile, blinking once as she moved to take the seat across from me. Her hair was a rich chocolate brown, but there were streaks of navy that fell on either side of her face.

"Don't suppose you want to talk about it?"

I shrugged noncommittally. She was an attractive woman, with a well-defined, heart-shaped face, a faintly olive skin tone, and a mouth that seemed used to smiling. But considering the fact that I'd been surrounded by pretties of both sexes all night—none of whom had been exactly human—I wasn't about to be actively social or overly polite.

She laughed softly as I continued to sit there silently, the smile on her face growing. "Don't like to talk much, ne?" she asked.

I snorted at that and shook my head. Anyone that knew me knew that one of my favourite hobbies was talking. Quatre didn't nickname me "Brooke" for nothing, after all. "No," I told her, taking another sip from my drink. "Talking's fine when you have something to say. Right now, I'm a little too numb to think, let alone talk."

"Ah!" the woman declared brightly, leaning forward on the arms she'd crossed and lain on the table. "You must have just found out about the Shadowkind," she said, a knowing looking her eyes.

I snorted again, taking a gulp of the cool, biting liquid before me. "Yeah. I found out that I've been living with four of them for the past two years."

The woman laughed at that, which had me scowling and glaring at her suspiciously. "I'm sorry," she apologized once her laughter was under control. "But the look on your face was just absolutely priceless. I'm Prycia, by the way," she said, extending her hand to me. "I'm the owner of the café."

"Duo," I said, accepting her hand. She had a firm grip for a woman, with calluses on her palm that suggested something a little more than just hard work. That reassured me; here was someone that actually did something that produced a physical change to their body. For some reason—maybe it was the calluses; I don't know for sure—I felt that I could trust Prycia—well, that I could trust her more than most of the people I'd met so far tonight.

"So, Duo, do you want to talk about it?" Prycia asked, using her hand as a brace to hold her chin once we broke the handshake.

I opened my mouth to reply with a polite yet firm, "No, thank you," but stopped before the words could leave my mouth. Instead I shrugged and said, "Sure. Why not?"

Prycia smiled at that, her whole face seeming to light up. "Yooosh'! It's always best to get these kind of things off your shoulders." She winked at me. "If you know what I mean."

With a rueful shake of my head, I said, "Sister, you've got no idea." I had so much stuff to get off my shoulders that we could be there all fucking night.

"So try me," she retorted, hazel eyes flashing. "What could it hurt?"

What could it hurt indeed. It wasn't like I had any sanity left to lose or anything. In answer to her question: as far as I knew, nothing, so I might as well go for it. " A little over two years ago, I'd never even seen the Earth, except from out in space. Then, on April 7, A.C. 195, I was given the orders to come to Earth and fight against OZ." I looked up in time to catch Prycia nodding her dark head, lips pursed in thought.

"So you're one of those Gundam pilots that the human news keeps talking about."

"Yeah," I said with a grin. "That would be me." Publicity going to my head? Never. "Anyway, the first person I met here was named Heero Yuy, a fellow Gundam pilot. Scary guy, definitely psychotic; we tried to kill each other the first time we met. Well, he got captured because of me, so I felt bad enough to go in and bust him out of the hospital.

"Our relationship was really rocky at first; neither of us trusted the other much farther than we could throw them. But then Heero was tricked by OZ into doing something terrible. That was how we first met the other three pilots, as well. Heero had a hard time getting over what he had done, but I tried to help him as much as I could. I think that's what allowed us to become close enough to call one another "friend."

"But then Lady Une of OZ tricked us all once again, only this time Heero was ordered to self-destruct so that OZ couldn't get its hands on the Gundams."

I stopped to take a drink, savouring the cool liquid sliding down my throat before I continued. "I thought he was dead. Hell, everyone except for Tro—who rescued that bastard's body—thought he was dead.

"That's how I met Quatre. He had some idea of how lost and alone I was feeling and offered to let me hide out with him for a while. Meeting Quatre was kind of a strange experience for me," I said with a fond smile. "All of my life I'd admired and envied anyone who had money simply because I didn't. Quatre had grown up wishing the opposite. He wished he didn't have money, wished he didn't have social status or obligation. He's kind of a strange one, if ya know what I mean."

Prycia blinked and then frowned at me. "Er, no, I don't."

Sighing in disgust—oi, she seemed like the kind of person who'd been around the block a few times, so I didn't understand why she didn't get it—I began to spell things out. "It's like this," I said, leaning forward on my crossed arms. "Quatre's got this…ability…he refers to as the uchuu no kokoro. What it is, in actuality, is a manifestation of parapsychic phenomena."

Whaaat? You think Heero's the only one that reads about weird shit?

"What type of phenomena?" Prycia asked with interest, leaning forward herself. "Telempathy, telekinesis, telepathy, divination, telemetry, pyrokinesis—what?"

I sighed again, this time shaking my head as I slumped back in my chair. "As far as I've seen, telepathy and telempathy. But with Quatre I'm not quite ready to draw a line in the sands concerning his abilities. I mean, the kid's got some twenty-nine sisters who all seem perfectly normal, and that male Winner brat is running around with wide, innocent aqua eyes while he poisons people or knocks them unconscious with strange herbal concoctions or freaky chants that would scare the laugh out of a hyena."

Prycia perked up like a hound that had just caught a hint of its favourite scent. "Did you say Winner?" she asked excitedly. "As in…as in Quatre Raberba Winner—"

Knowing what was coming next, I mentally added, Heir to the Winner family business and fortune.

"—heir to Princess Quatrine Raberba, the Aspect Queen of the Darkling Throng?"

I blinked in utter dumbfoundment, choking on the liquid I'd been going to swallow. "The who-what?!" I gasped, once I'd managed to get the drink past the lump in my throat. Here I'd thought I was psychic, and the chick across from me had to go and prove me wrong.

"The Aspect Queen!" Prycia repeated with a laugh, clapping her hands in merriment that I was not sharing in. "The only witch to master the inner magicks of all three magical aspects: black, white, and shamanic. Well, I guess Quatrine wasn't really a witch per se; more like a magi or sorceress. She was a distant relation of the Unseelie Court, her power rivalling that of some of the most ancient Sidhe who were once considered gods by the ancient world.

"But that isn't the best part," she said with glowing eyes and a huge smile. "The best part is, she married the last living relative of Death."

This time I gaped unashamedly in confusion. Hell, at that point, I was covered head to toe and rolling in it! "What did you say?" I asked hoarsely. I had to have heard her wrong; I had to.

Didn't I?

A peal of full-throated laughter was the reply to my question. "Not like you're thinking, Duo!" she said, trying to contain her amusement for the sake of my peace of mind. "About a half century or so ago, a pair of distant cousins—the male from the Middle East Coalition, the female from what was left of the United States of America—met, fell in love, and married. They were the last descendants of a man known as Ted Forrester—Anita simply knew him as Edward. However, most people and Shadowkind on the wrong side of the law knew him as Death.

"Anyway, the male descendant's last name was Winner, first name Mostafa, and he was head of a business giant known simply as Winner Enterprises. His wife, Nora, was a rather sickly thing and was only able to give him one son; Quatre's father, Ahran.

"And so it happened that, in the time it takes for younglings to grow up, Ahran Winner met and fell in love with a slight, fair gypsy-like Sidhe-descended girl from the north by the name of Quatrine Raberba. I have my suspicions about her though—rumour is, she looked more like Death than any of his known descendants, though for all I know she could be related to the Sidhe Death God Rhys. Anyway, Quatrine lived a full life with her husband—twenty-nine test tube daughters and all that—until the day she realized that she would die.

"You see, Quatrine knew that another was after her powers, and that if they killed her in a certain ritual, her talent would become theirs. She couldn't let that happen; not when her children would have to live with the repercussions. But she was quite clever; upon conception, she passed her powers on to Quatre—something almost never heard of in the history of either court, which perpetuated her reputation as a witch. It's what caused her death, of course. The loss of power caused all her hundreds of years of age to catch up to her."

"Just how old was Quatre's mother when she died?" I asked in a bare whisper. Hundreds of years…? Geeze!

Prycia frowned thoughtfully. "Let's see…was it three-hundred and forty or four-hundred and thirty? Dear me, I can't seem to remember! You know, for a Sidhe that's fairly young."

Feeling like I'd just been smacked upside the head with a gundanium two by ten, I sat back in my seat with my mind gibbering. Dear Shinigami, what had I gotten myself into? Quatre was some sort of psychic sorcerer-witch-faerie person; Trowa was a lycanthrope, of the 'howl-at-the-full-moon' variety; Wufei had a pet demon, as well as some other secret that I had yet to discover; Heero was somehow Jean-Claude's son—which, I'll admit, scared the hell out of me; and me—supposedly I could turn into a panther.

Have I mentioned lately that my night had been just a little stranger than usual? Not a whole fucking lot, mind you, just a little bit stranger.

I glanced up with a start as Prycia gently touched the back of my hand. "Hey, kid, it'll be okay," she told me with a smile that I couldn't think of as any way other than sincere. "You and all your friends…you'll be okay."

First Jason, now Prycia. Was my apprehension and worry that easy to read? I wondered as I glanced at her. The faraway tone that her voice had taken on had been just a tad bit freaky, and I looked up to find myself staring into her wide hazel eyes. There was no pupil left that I could see; just a wide, swirling pool of hazel that threatened to suck me down into their depths. It was quite a struggle, but I managed to tear my gaze away, glancing down to where Prycia's hand clutched mine.

Waving strands of navy and dark brown hair captured my attention as Prycia suddenly shook her head, bringing her hands up to clutch at her temples. "Wow, talk about a massive headache," she groaned, her eyes closing in a wince. "Ouch!"

For a moment I was confused once again. Then a thought occurred to me—yeah, I know, what a rare happening. I had absolutely no idea if Prycia was even human. I really doubted it, after the conversation we'd just had. If that was the case, what was she? And could what she had just said to me have been a premonition of some kind?

"Say, Prycia?" I asked softly, lowering my voice so as not to aggravate her headache. Oi; I can be kind if I really, really want to. Of course, I'm usually only kind when I want something. Call it a character flaw of mine.

"Yeah?" she queried, opening her eyes carefully after she tipped her head to the side.

"Are you a clairvoyant?"

My question seemed to catch her slightly off guard as her eyes widened in surprise before closing again with a wince. "No, not really," she said slowly. "I'm half Daoine Sidhe; my father, who was a pure blood, had a touch of what we call Foresight. Why?"

I shook my head, not willing to share with her the news she had imparted. "Ah, it's nothing," I murmured softly. Then I smiled and said, "Thank you for your time, Prycia. I've really appreciated talking with you."

"I, too, Duo," she said with a weak smile. "I would greatly love to speak with you more, but if I don't do something about this headache I'm going to be miserable for the rest of the night and probably tomorrow as well."

"Naa, it's not like I'm a hard person to find," I said with a grin. "You go take care of yourself; I'll sit here and mull things over until someone comes to get me."

With my reassurances that I would be quite all right on my own, Prycia made her way towards the counter and bar, disappearing behind a curtain to the back. She'd been a strange girl, no doubt about that, but the way she had rattled on about Quatre's mom and stuff had—for some, obscure reason that is no doubt lost in the bottomless abyss that time forgot—calmed me considerably.

Glancing woefully at the cup in my hands, I decided that it was time to get off my lazy butt and get a refill. All that talking—all right, so Prycia had done most of the talking—had made my throat exceptionally dry.

"Excuse me," a throaty voice murmured, taking me surprise. I looked up and found myself caught in two lipid pools of endless triple-toned pale green. The woman was tall—I was guessing about a hundred and seventy centimetres plus—with hair of such a pale colour and length that it could rival Zechs'. Her skin was pale and yet it shone with a strange shimmering sheen that had me almost instantly on alert. And it was more than the fact that she made me realise just how short I still was.

The woman smiled at my wary expression. Great; I was amusing her. "Forgive me for startling you," she continued softly, "but I couldn't help noticing that you were here alone. Would you mind sharing a drink with me?"

It was after she said this that I noticed she was carrying two glasses in her hands—and I had a feeling it wasn't coloured water in those glasses. Call me crazy—scratch that; call me sane—but for some reason I did not trust the woman one iota. Especially when she was offering me alcohol.

Maybe it was the fact that the shimmering lilac robe-thingy she was wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Maybe it was the fact that she was undressing me with her eyes without an ounce of embarrassment. Maybe it was the fact that I could see the tiny wheels and gears turning in her pretty blonde head as she tried to deduce the best way to get me into her bed.

And then again, maybe it was the fact that I still had some sense of self-preservation. Really, I'm sure I've got it running around… Well, it's running around somewhere, I'm sure; you'll just have to trust me on that one.

The woman set the drinks down on the table with a small laugh, her fingers lightly brushing my bare arm as she did so. The contact sent a sharp jolt down my spine, and I could feel my eyes go wide even as my skin began to tingle. "My name is Ellinea," she said, taking the seat across from me. She sipped from her drink, resting her chin in her hands afterward. "I must admit that I find you quite fascinating, Duo Maxwell. Quite fascinating indeed." Her slender, long-fingered hand reached out again, running up and down my arm once before returning to her side of the table.

Oh dear fucking god of hell—she knew my name! That right there set warning bells off in my head—not to mention the weird touching my arm shit she was doing. Most of the people I'd met tonight—excluding Jean-Claude, Anita, and Richard—hadn't a fucking clue who I was from Adam. And now this chick was telling me I was fascinating?

Maybe I should forget about asking for forgiveness ahead of time and just plain run away screaming into the night.

"Yes," Ellinea went on in a purr, her eyes half lidded, "I have heard many an intriguing tale of you and your friends. I believe"—she paused and took another sip from her drink, her eyes never leaving my face—"that you would make a valuable business associate. My colleagues and I—"

A flash of blue and white caught my attention, thankfully breaking the strange spell that had fallen over me as I bathed in the glow of Ellinea's green eyes. Bathed in the glow… Ewww! Where the fuck had that imagery come from?

A tall man with long, black hair swept up in a high ponytail—and dressed in a white hakama and blue kimono top, I might add—knelt beside Ellinea and spoke in soft, earnest tones. I watched as Ellinea's face went from predatorily smug to tight-lipped, white-knuckled anger.

I briefly wondered who had pissed her off—I was guessing that whoever they were, they weren't going to live very long. The look she had kind of reminded me of Lady Une, á la persona one; the one that the guys and I lovingly refer to as Psycho Bitch.

"Thank you, Miburou," she said softly, laying her hand to the side of the man's face. "Shall we return home?"

The man rose, the harsh lines of his angular face set in an impassive expression. The man could have rivalled Heero when it came to whose face could show less emotion. "Hai, Ellinea-dono," the man murmured, golden eyes all but dead of emotion. "Let's go home."

Ellinea accepted the man's offered hand, rising gracefully to her feet. "We shall meet again, Duo Maxwell," she said quietly, fingers brushing against my arm once again. Her pale eyes flashed with something that sent shivers of foreboding down my back. "Jaa ne."

My eyes stayed fastened on her and her Bakufu-samurai friend until I was sure that they had gone out the doors of "Féeriques Coteau" for good. After about five minutes of staring at the doors, I was relatively certain they weren't coming back anytime soon. I downed my drink, then reached across the table for Ellinea's and downed it, too. Had I mentioned lately that I had really been hoping to be three sheets to the wind by this point in the night?

By some unbidden instinct, I could feel someone coming up behind me, someone that didn't feel right in my head. I snapped free the blade on my right arm, dropping it so the pommel was in my hand and the blade was flat against the arm bracer. I lunged from my chair to the left, pivoted off my left foot and brought my right arm up with the blade now out—

—and found myself a whole three centimetres away from slitting Damian's throat. I had to give the guy credit; my actions didn't seem to have surprised him a hell of a lot. His dark, cat-like eyes blinked once, and I swear I saw a small smile cross his stone-like face. "The others have asked for you to return, Duo."

I nodded shakily, returning the blade to its sheath. The night's events had me staggering on the edge like a drunk, and I was worried that it would only take something minor to push me all the way over. Get yourself under control, Maxwell! I snarled at myself, even as I smiled apologetically up at Damian. "Um…about the knife…"

Damian shook his head slightly. "Do not worry about it. Anita has threatened me with much worse." He smiled wryly, looking a lot more human than I'd seen him look all night. "Jason has threatened me with worse."

Somehow I found it kind of hard to believe that Jason could threaten someone as big and bad as Damian, but if Damian said it was true… Oi, who was I to argue with an immortal bloodsucker?

"Let's go," I said with a resigned sigh, falling into step behind Damian as we began to retrace our steps, back into the underground lair deep in the bowls of the earth under the café. As I walked, I couldn't help but reflect on the conversation I'd had with Prycia—the conversation I'd kind of had with Ellinea, as well.

I'd be the first to admit that Ellinea chick had been strange, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was about her that had bothered me. Other than constantly petting my arm, that is. I was quiet—yeah, I know, an unusual occurrence—as Damian led me back through the maze of halls and rooms downstairs, lost deep in my own thoughts.

I gave everyone in the room the once-over when the door was closed behind me, unsure of what to expect. Anita and Quatre were deep in conversation off to my left, my blonde friend worrying the leash through his hands. Trowa sat calmly, quietly beside him. When he noticed me, he gently touched Quatre's arm to gain his attention. Wufei appeared to be asleep, seated on the couch across the room beside Heero and leaning heavily against him. Heero was speaking softly with Jean-Claude and Richard, but he looked up and over at me as if he'd been cued and gave me a crooked smile. Wufei, too, opened his eyes and gave me a small smile as well.

"Well, we think we've figured out what we're going to do, Duo," Anita said, pushing away from the wall and making her way towards me. "Richard's almost certain that with the help of Jean-Claude and myself, and the help of Heero and Wufei as well, we can call your beast."

I blinked and then gave a small laugh. "Even after all the strange shit I've seen and heard tonight, that still sounds sooo ridiculous," I said.

Trowa laughed at that, brushing his bangs aside so that I could see both smiling green eyes. "Duo, if it's any consolation, even when you've 'been there, done that' it still sounds ridiculous."

I drew in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly. I gave him a small smile. "I guess it's some consolation, Tro."

Quatre stood up, Trowa rising with him. He stretched his arms over his head, revealing a tempting flash of taut stomach. "I'm sorry that we can't stay to offer support, Duo," Quatre apologized. He stepped forward and touched my arm lightly, and I gasped in shock as that contact sent a spark of something racing up through my arm.

Quatre frowned slightly, but just shook his head in dismissal. "I hope it goes well." He then leaned in and kissed my cheek. Once again that strange spark of sensation jumped through me; where Quatre's lips had touched my cheek felt almost numb. Trowa's knuckles brushed my other cheek gently, and much to my surprise the same feeling occurred but this time I leaned my face into the touch. He gave me that small, adorable smile of his and said, "We'll see you in a bit." Then he and Quatre left the room and closed the door behind them.

Anita gave me a quick grin, pushing back the curls that had slipped over her shoulder. "Why don't you go sit by Wufei and Heero while the boys explain what's going to happen. I need to go and find Asher."

I nodded and slowly made my way over to the couch, feeling a bit reluctant. Reluctant at what I wasn't sure.

Wufei seemed to be rather comfortable leaning against Heero with his head pillowed on Heero's shoulder, and he did look tired, so I didn't even try to make him move so I could sit between him and Heero. Yeah, I guess my sadism does have its limits. And, if I was perfectly honest with myself, they looked quite stunning together like that.

Instead, in what could probably be considered typical Duo Maxwell touchy-feely fashion—though my actions surprised the hell out of me—I went to the couch and sprawled out across both Heero's and Wufei's laps.

"What's up guys?[2]" I asked, pillowing my head on my crossed arms. It was a little uncomfortable to have the metal from the buckles on my bracers digging into my skin, but not unbearable. My actions and words earned me smiles and laughs all around, two of the laughs feeling like the caress of sun-warmed fur, but touching you from inside your skull.

A hand—Heero's hand—began to slide across my hair, fingers occasionally brushing across the back of my neck and causing me to shiver. Another hand—Wufei's, given my position—was slowly moving up and down my back, like a mother soothing a child. Except every time Wufei's fingers found the edge of my shirt and brushed skin, sparks that seemed both hot and cold at the same time raced up my spine. I wanted to squirm back, to get more of those elusive touches.

That thought pulled me up short. Why was I suddenly feeling so, well, to put it bluntly, horny? Not that the thought of my fellow pilots hasn't given me a twinge in the loins a couple hundred times or so. But why the hell was this hitting right now? Even I knew this was so not the time for overactive hormones. Not that my overactive hormones ever listened to a damn thing I tried to tell them, but—

I shuddered slightly, leaning into my friends' hands. For some strange reason it was like my libido was cranked up to maximum and on autopilot, and not only could I not turn it down even the barest notch, there was no way in hell to take it off autopilot. Someone talk, please! I screamed mentally. If I didn't get a distraction, I wasn't sure what would happen.

I wasn't sure if Jean-Claude read my mind, but I knew I didn't care. He did give me a melt-in-your-mouth-and-in-your-hands smile, though, before he spoke that had me wondering. "Richard is going to call your beast through the aid of the triumvirate's power, mon petit panthère. Through Anita's knowledge of the pard and her link to the lukoi munin, Richard will use his abilities as an alpha lycanthrope to help her call your beast forth. I shall act as a buffer for ma petite et mon chere."

I nodded at that, freeing one hand from under my chin to trace patterns on the leather Heero's legs were encased in. "So what are Heero and Wu-babe—Ye-ouch!—going to be doing?" I finished the sentence with a grumble, turning my head briefly to glare at Wufei. The "Wu-babe" comment had earned me quite a smack on the rump.

Wufei's sloe eyes were bright with amusement even though his lips weren't smiling. Then Wufei went and shocked the hell out of me by running his hand almost apologetically over my wounded anatomy. I knew that I was staring like a wide-eyed, gape-mouthed, country yokel, but I couldn't help it. Wufei just did not do things like that.

Heero tapped me lightly in the temple with a laugh. "Pay attention," he told me softly. "And close your mouth. You're giving everyone far too many ideas."

I settled back down and closed my mouth with a sigh, wondering if the night—all right, technically the morning—could get any weirder. Scratch that—I didn't want to know.

Richard sighed in exasperation, muttering, "They're as bad as you," to Jean-Claude.

Jean-Claude's burning prussian blue eyes widened in innocence. "Moi?" he asked, placing a hand against his chest. He smiled, reaching over and brushing his fingers gently down the side of Richard's face. "You don't give yourself enough credit, mon chere. Why, just last night—" Richard growled lowly, snapping his teeth at Jean-Claude's fingers which had moved just out of reach.

I sighed, rolling over so I was almost on my side but still sprawled quite comfortably across Heero's and Wufei's laps. "Could you save the love play for later? I'd like to hear all of what's going to happen before I'm old and grey."

Richard and Jean-Claude looked at each other and then both burst into full-blown laughter. "'…old and grey…'" Jean-Claude repeated breathlessly, breaking off into another gale of laughter. "That's a good one!"

The vampire was all but sprawled out across Richard, one arm thrown about the werewolf's shoulders as they supported each other in their mutual amusement. I was struck again by how shocking the contrast was between them. Richard with his tall, heavily muscled frame, richly tanned skin, chocolate brown eyes, and chestnut hair that was threaded with so many other colours it actually defied description; Jean-Claude with his pale, milky skin, burning prussian blue eyes, long blue-black hair, and lean dancer's build.

And yet, they seemed to fit. I had a feeling that hadn't always been the case, however. Call it my female intuition, if you want; just don't bother to point out that I'm not female, because I'm sure I'll manage to come up with a logical argument for why my wording works.

"I'm sorry, Duo," Jean-Claude said softly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's just that you still have quite a bit to learn."

I frowned, coming as close to a pout as I ever did. "I know that," I muttered. "You don't have to keep reminding me of that fact."

Richard nodded, giving me that lopsided grin of his that flashed a lot of white teeth and made you think of descriptions like 'Boy Scout,' 'guy next door,' and 'good ol' boy.' "You're right, Duo. We'll try to stick to the matter at hand and not get distracted by more…tempting…things."

Anita made her return about halfway through Richard's apology, the strikingly handsome Asher beside her. She frowned, glancing from her lovers to me, Heero, and Wufei several times before her gaze settled on Jean-Claude and Richard. "You didn't say anything to make him mad, did you?" she asked them, gesturing towards me.

With identical 'Who, me?' expressions, the two in question shook their heads. "Non, ma petite. We were simply awaiting the arrival of Asher and yourself before we progressed."

"Well, then, progress we shall," Anita said with a small gesture. She took Richard's place on the desk when he jumped down, Asher moving to stand beside her, slightly to the back.

"First of all, you're going to need to take your clothes off," Richard said without preamble.

Anita groaned and shook her head, while Jean-Claude snickered openly and Asher muffled a laugh of his own. "Nice way to start things off, Richard," she muttered.

Blinking for a moment, I gave him a dubious look. "Give me a good reason why."

"Because when you change you'll rip the clothes to well beyond shreds," Anita said blandly, her feet kicking idly as she continued to perch on the edge of the ornate desk. "I have a feeling you're attached to them, so I suggest you take them off."

"All right," I grumbled, sitting up. 'Strip in front of strangers' hadn't exactly been on my 'Things to Do' list or anything, but I was going to do it nonetheless.

The shirt came off easily enough and I draped it over Wufei's head with a laugh. He looked so cute scowling out from underneath purple silk with his arms crossed in a pout. Heero got to hold all of the jewellery—sans cross since the cross check-in girl still had that—and the hair tie that I pulled from my hair, freeing the heavy mass. I nearly sighed with relief as I finger combed through it. Hair as thick as mine is heavy and you can't wear it up for very long without giving yourself a headache. Boots and socks came off next, and both Heero and Wufei laughed as they peered down at my feet.

"Nice toenails, Duo," Wufei said with a snicker, a black brow arched.

I looked down at my toenails wondering what the hell he was talking about and groaned, shaking my head in disbelief. "Quatre is sooo dead," I vowed.

Why was Quatre going to die by my hands at the soonest available opportunity? Here's why: Mr. 'I'm-just-an-innocent-rich-blonde-boy…really!' Quatre Raberba Winner had somehow—probably during one of the numerous times this week when I'd been sloshed—managed to paint my toenails with various shockingly bright neon colours and had put little black cat stickers on them. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed them in the shower.

However, that was a revenge that could be plotted later; I had other things that I needed to be doing at that moment.

The leather pants took some work to get off, and I had to stand up to wiggle out of them. From behind, I could feel eyes on me, hot like branding irons. I shivered at the weight of those gazes, bending down to slip the pants from my ankles. Wufei made a few catcalls and appreciative whistles once I stood up again and began to fold the pants that had me almost—almost—blushing. See, they weren't the kind of pants you could wear underwear with without having very betraying lines. So I had foregone the underwear all together.

Of course, I hadn't really planned on having to strip for an audience.

"Now what?" I asked, fighting the urge to duck and cover. Being exposed to a room of people—of which you only really know and trust two—clad in your birthday suit can be just a bit intimidating.

Heero caught my hand in his, and I turned to give him a quizzical look as his thumb began to trace slow patterns over my palm. "The bracers, Duo," he said softly, the fingers of his other hand tracing over the metal buckles. His eyes watched me, waiting for my answer.

My eyes widened and I turned with almost numb shock to look at Wufei. His sloe eyes were steady as ever, and I clung to that like a lifeline. I was pleading for help with my eyes, my mind, and my heart—and within that room that was now beginning to seem claustrophobic, Wufei was the only one I could turn to.

Since Heero had been returned to us from the dead I'd either worn long sleeves around him or the forearm bracers. There was a reason for that, a reason that all of my friends except Heero knew about. I'd begged the others not to tell him of my awful secret, of the terrible and incredibly stupid thing I had done while he was dead, and my friends had acceded to my wishes—though, to give him credit, Wufei had argued that point until he was hoarse.

The night had been too strange by far, and in some ways extremely traumatising as well. I wasn't ready to face Heero's reaction to what lay beneath the layers of leather and metal that encased my forearms.

I turned even more, tugging my hand free from Heero's as I face them both. "Wufei," I whispered, voice thick and harsh even in my ears.

Fuck, I sounded like the world's biggest crybaby.

Wufei gave me that adorable little smile of his and gently grasped my wrist. He tugged me down into his lap, arms wrapping comfortingly around my trembling body. "He should know, Duo," Wufei said quietly.

In reply, I shook my head, burying my face in the crook of his neck. This was familiar…this I could handle. How many nights had I spent like this while Heero was gone?

Musk and clove teased my senses, and I had the overpowering urge to raise my head and lap at the bronzed skin of Wufei's neck like the big cat everyone thought I was. But I squashed that urge, burrowing deeper into Wufei's embrace. Those weird, over-active hormones were really beginning to get on my nerves. "I don't want him to know," I rasped to Wufei, my hands clenched in his shirtfront. "I'm ashamed and dirty—"

Wufei hugged me tightly, one hand lacing into my hair and slipping through in soft tugs. "We all are, Shi-chan," he told me sternly, wringing a laugh from me at the use of that silly, stupid nickname. "If the rest of us could accept and understand, do you really think Heero will be any different?"

I sat up slowly and glanced at the person in question. We'd been talking about him as if he hadn't been there, and I was still pretty much oblivious to the half dozen other people in the room. Heero gazed at me with calm eyes, his expression one of infinite patience.

"All—all right," I stuttered hesitantly. Still seated in Wufei's lap and within the circle of his arms, I undid the buckles on both bracers. Taking in a deep breath and biting my lip in anticipation of Heero's expected reaction, I slipped both forearm coverings off at the same time.

The scars really weren't doing all that bad, I thought, gazing down at my arms with an almost frightening detachedness. They were still a livid, angry purple, but they weren't built up as I had worried they would. The scars—which bedecked both of my arms—began at the base of each hand and continued to just past the bend in my elbow.

I'm sure that everyone knew by now what those scars indicated. Yes, I'd been an idiot and tried to commit suicide. It wasn't like I'd succeeded or anything, but I'd pissed everyone off real bad. Wufei'd wanted to kill me himself, but kept reminding himself—out loud—that that would be counterproductive. Quatre had wanted to string me up and beat me; instead, he'd just drugged me up to my eyeballs and sicced Wufei on me. Trowa was just going to feed me to those pet lions of his, and he had a very logical and eloquent speech that he gave for why that was a good thing. And Heero… Naa, Heero'd been dead at the time, and that had pretty much been the reason for my being an idiot anyway.

A light finger traced the scars, first on the left arm, then the right. "It doesn't matter anymore, Duo," Heero told me softly, his gaze never once leaving mine. "This is our past, and we can't go back to it. All we can do is move on and try to forget."

"Can we really do that?" I asked hoarsely. Shinigami knows how much I wanted to believe him, but I'm probably the most cynical one of our group, and I have a hard time believing anything that sounds remotely nice or too good to be true.

"We can if we allow ourselves to," Wufei said, giving me another hug.

Then next words out my mouth shocked me. "I'm scared," I whispered, beginning to tremble.

Shinigami, kick my ass now; crybaby mode has moved onto level two.

"That's why we're going to be right here with you, Duo," Heero said fiercely, eyes sparking with fire.

"Promise?" I asked with a hint of a smile.

I could feel a sort of bond tying the three of us together now, and it provided me with a comfort I hadn't known in a long time. "Promise," Wufei and Heero said together.

Taking in a deep breath, I met Anita's eyes over Heero's head. "All right then, I'm ready."

Anita smiled softly and nodded. "All right then, let's begin."

To say that the waiting was wearing on my patience would have been an understatement. I don't like to sit still for very long—as Anita pointed out earlier, my attention span sucks. I could feel Heero and Wufei standing behind me, their hands linked. Anita, Jean-Claude, and Richard stood in front of me, lightly touching one another as well.

Me? I was bare-ass naked crouched on a stone floor. If it hadn't been for the fact that I'd been told silence was necessary for them to concentrate enough to call my beast, I would have been pulling my childish 'Are we there yet?' act on them.

Instead, I sighed and tried to relax. Tried to, being the operative word. If something didn't happen real soon, I was going to go stir crazy and start ripping down wall hangings or something.

Suddenly, Anita's eyes flashed open and she stepped forward. There was something in her eyes that frightened me, as if Anita weren't really the one occupying her body. "Duo Maxwell, it is time to shed the veil that is not yours. It is time to loose the skin that does not belong. By the power of the lukoi, by the power of the pard, let thy inner self be free."

I gasped as a warm sensation spread through my body, my eyes going wide. I looked down at my hands in utter astonishment, watching as bone and muscle, tendon and ligament, flowed like water to change and mould into short-toed paws. Fine black hair sprouted from my flesh covering the limbs like an onyx blanket. I think I may have screamed at one point; it's a bit disconcerting to feel bones break and mend themselves into a form you're not used to. The weirdest sensation of all was when I suddenly found myself with a prehensile tail. I tried to let out a sound of surprise, but all that came out was a guttural growl.

Before I knew it, I was standing on four legs with my tail lashing in agitation. It was disconcerting to suddenly be so short; I didn't like having to gaze up at everyone. And my vision was a little distorted, which was going to take some getting used to. My sense of smell was heightened beyond my imagination, much to my surprise. My nostrils flared as they caught a welcome scent; blood. Apparently Wufei had caught himself on something during the night, because the wound wasn't very old. I licked my canines, turning with a small purr to focus my gaze on Wufei. I was suddenly a bit hungry.

"That's enough!" Heero growled, his eyes snapping open to focus on me. I stopped in my tracks, wondering what he was referring to.

I soon found out. Much quicker than they had occurred, my body reverted to the form I was used to—Duo 'the human' Maxwell—and I curled up on the cold stone floor with a shiver. I gazed at my hands in shock, bringing them up to feel my teeth. No really pointy teeth in my mouth was a good sign, right? And my body seemed to be back to normal.

"How do you feel?" Heero asked, slipping the blanket Anita had handed him over my shoulders.

I opened my mouth to reply but no sound emerged. With a frown I tried again, this time with a bit more success. "Shaky and tired…exhilarated and on edge." I blinked and looked up at Richard. "I have an urge for raw meat. Warm, still bleeding, raw meat."

Richard laughed, picking me up off the floor and carrying me back over to the couch as if I were nothing more than a sack of flour. "That's not all that unusual," he said, setting me down next to Wufei, who had already claimed a place on the couch once again.

I snuggled close, rubbing my cheek against silky bronze skin. I noticed that his skin was awfully warm. Come to think of it, Wufei was always a little bit warmer than the rest of us. Curling up against him was like lying down in front of a blazing wood stove—the cat in me really appreciated that analogy. I also began to notice other things as I continued to lean against Wufei. I could hear his pulse in my head, nearly taste it in the back of my mouth; I could discern every individual odour on his skin; I could sense every shift and play of muscle.

Wufei gave me a funny look, touching my cheek lightly. "Duo, are you okay?" he asked.

I smiled and said weakly. "Yeah. Why shouldn't I be? Just because I turned into a fucking large black cat—"

"With beautiful purple eyes?"

I rolled my eyes. Does Quatre know how to start a conversation or what? "I don't know," I told him, peering up at him owlishly. I didn't bother to remove my cheek from Wufei's shoulder; I was more than comfortable, and I wasn't about to move even if my life depended on it, I was that tired. "I was kind of busy being the panther, so it wasn't like I had a chance to look at myself from the outside or anything."

Wufei snickered, giving me an unreadable look. "Yes, his eyes were purple, Quatre. You know Duo; gotta have a signature something, or he's not happy."

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Heero answered for him, settling onto the couch on my other side. He gave me a seductive smile, and I had to fight for coherent thought.

"Are you sure?" I asked him, leaning over to trace circles on his chest. "Because I was almost certain that there was something meant by that comment."

When both Wufei and Heero continued to give me innocent expressions, I crossed my arms over my chest and began to pout. "Fine. I'll just go visit Quatre."

Quatre and Trowa had settled into the couch on the other side of the room. Quatre's eyes were narrowed in thought, and he seemed a bit distracted. Perfect, I thought, with a wicked grin. I stood up, letting the blanket drop.

"Duo, what are you doing?" Heero asked, an eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"Nothing," I replied, mimicking him as I batted my eyelashes. "Could you please hand me my pants?" Heero complied and I quickly put the garment on with a sigh of relief; finally I could return to a semi-draft free existence. Then, with my usual abandon, I launched myself across the room right onto Quatre's lap. "Yaa, Quatre!" I chirped, twining my arms around his neck.

"Yes, Duo?" Quatre asked, giving me a cute little smile.

I responded by running my fingers through his hair. It was so soft, and the way the light shimmered off of it, his hair looked like molten moonlight; all in all, an extremely beautiful sight. Those shiver sparks of sensation from earlier were much stronger than before, growing stronger the more I looked at Quatre, the more I touched him. They were urging me to…

To what, exactly?

"Duo, are you all right?" Quatre queried softly, his aqua eyes wide with worry.

I brushed my worried thoughts aside rather easily. Grinning wickedly, I narrowed my eyes as I turned in his lap and pounced, pinning him beneath me. "I am now!" I told him gleefully before pulling him into a rather forceful lip lock.

Dimly I was aware of sounds of dismay from around me, but I couldn't have cared less. This was what those sparks were urging me to do, and I was damned if I was going to fight them anymore. I could feel Quatre's hands on my face, gently trying to pry me off. After a moment, I complied and sat back with a pout. "What, you don't want me?" I asked. I realised, as soon as the words left my mouth, that though they had been intended as teasing, I was actually serious.

…What the fuck was going on?

Quatre looked beyond confused—well, at least I wasn't the only one. "Duo, I don't know what's going on, but you're acting a little strange."

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked, beginning to lightly stroke his arm. Okay, so I knew exactly what he was referring too, and it was bothering me as well, but coherent thought and logical wording seemed a bit beyond me at the moment. Quatre's skin was soft and smooth; it kind of felt like satin.

Instead of answering me, Quatre looked around me towards Heero and Wufei. "Ummm…could you guys give me some help here?" he asked.

I wasn't really paying attention anymore to what was going on. I was more focused on the sensation of the texture of Quatre's skin. I could here the buzzing drone of voices in the background, but I couldn't readily make out words; all that mattered was that touch. After a moment, I felt hands on my arms; warm hands, so I knew it was Wufei.

"Come on, Duo. Let's get you back to your side of the room," he said, removing my limbs from around Quatre.

"Okay," I said in agreement; I actually wasn't all that sure what I was agreeing to, but it seemed like the thing to do at the time. I let him draw me back towards the other couch, slowly contemplating what my fingers wanted to do next. I smiled softly to myself when I came to a conclusion.

Sometimes I am such a genius.

As soon as Wufei sat back down, I jumped into his lap. "Naa, Wufei, have I told you lately that I find you sexy?" I purred, straddling his legs. Yep, I definitely wasn't in my right mind. Though I'd kind of been thinking along those lines all night, there was no way in hell that I'd ever have voiced that aloud. Of course, moving back on to the situation at…hand…

I didn't give him a chance to answer my odd question; I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. Unlike Quatre, Wufei didn't fight me; he let me kiss, nibble, and lick to my heart's content—he didn't really participate, either, which was something of a disappointment, but I wasn't going to complain. No siree bob, not me. When I finally had to pull back or risk breathing difficulties, I was a bit shocked to see that Wufei seemed amused.

"Is this a normal side effect?" he asked Anita.

Anita shook her head, looking quite bewildered. Oh, look, the confusion must be contagious. She glanced at Richard and Jean-Claude, both of whom seemed a bit disturbed as well. "Sometimes, during a hunt this will happen. But I've never seen anything like this."

"Like what?" I asked, rather intent on trying to figure out how to get off Wufei's shirt. Let's see… It didn't have a zipper, buttons, or snaps, so—

"Duo, did you speak with anyone upstairs?" Jean-Claude asked me softly, drawing my attention.

I had to think about that one a moment; let me tell ya, it was awfully hard to think around raging hormones. "I talked to the lady at the counter so I could get a drink, then I talked to the café owner—She liked to talk even more than I do!—and then I talked to this weird chick that kept petting my arm, and she said her name was Ellinore or something. She was a bit freaky."

Back to the shirt…

"Fuck," Anita swore, snarling as she turned to Asher who had been standing silently in the corner. "Asher, hurry and find Prycia."

"Yes, Anita," the blonde vampire murmured, leaving the room faster than my eyes could follow.

I blinked, and then smiled as I registered where I was. "Now where was I?" I purred, wiggling in Wufei's lap. "I remember. I was about to divest you of these annoying clothes and toss you on the floor so I could have my wicked way with you."

Heero coughed from beside me. I glanced at him and grinned, leaning over to give him a loud, smacking kiss on the lips. "Don't worry, Heero, you're next," I assured him.

Much to my disgust, Asher had somehow already managed to return with Prycia by the time I'd turned my attention back to Wufei. "Spoilsports," I muttered darkly, collapsing onto the couch between Wufei and Heero. I kept myself entertained by tracing patterns on Heero's leather clad thigh while I waited to find out what was going on. It was hard to pay attention since all of my other senses seemed to clamour for me to do other things with them, but I forced myself to behave; growing up in a Catholic church orphanage has some benefits.

"Anita, what's going on?" Prycia asked in bewilderment, scraping hair from in front of her face as she took in the room. I grinned and wiggled my fingers at her before returning to more interesting pursuits. Glancing between Heero and Wufei, I pursed my lips in vacant thought. I really seemed to go for the exotic ones….

"We don't know," Anita said with a sigh, leaning back against Jean-Claude for support. "We tried to call Duo's beast; everything went real smooth and we succeeded without a hitch. However, when he reverted to human form, he began to act like a sex crazed maniac."

"I resent that," I retorted, glaring up at her. "It's not like I've tried to jump you, Jean-Claude, or Richard. Not that it isn't tempting or anything—well, not really, since Jean-Claude scares the shit out of me and I trust you about as far as I could throw you underwater with one hand tied behind my back. Um, no offence. And, anyway, Trowa looks far more enticing, you know. It's those long limbs and that mysterious air his hair and eyes give him," I said. I smiled at Trowa, who just sighed and shook his head.

"See what I mean," Anita said with a raised eyebrow; apparently I hadn't offended her, which was a good thing. "The only clue Duo came up with was that he talked to someone named Ellinore—or something like that—when he was up in the café. You wouldn't happen to know who he was talking about, would you?"

Prycia gasped and shook her head. "No, it can't be. She wouldn't dare to come here."

"Is it who we think it is, Prycia?" Jean-Claude asked her gently.

"It can't be Ellinea!" Prycia blurted out, her eyes wide. "Not even she would dare to break the Seelie Court's ward again."

"Was the woman's name Ellinea?" Jean-Claude asked me, his magnetic blue eyes catching hold of mine.

Oooh, pretty blue eyes… You know, the things that were captivating my attention right now were pretty damn stupid when you got right down to it. "Ellinea, Ellinore, what's the difference?" I asked with a shrug.

"A lot," Anita snapped. "If it was Ellinea, then you're in deep shit, Duo."

"Why's that?" I asked curiously, propping myself up against Wufei's shoulder. I sensed a story with a capital 'S.'

"Ellinea is a cousin of mine," Prycia said, her hands knotting together. "She was once a member of the highest court of the Daoine Sidhe; the Seelie Court. She had beauty, power, charm, wit; she had everything that anyone could desire.

"Everything but power. Her magic was very limited, and so Ellinea began to practise the magic of the Unseelie Court in order to increase her power. For over three centuries her exploits went unnoticed, until she drew the attention of the entire court by going after someone in the World of Iron. The Seelie Court banished her to the outer rims of their realm, and told her that if she ever broke Seelie Ward again, she'd be sentenced to death.

"There aren't many things that a full-blooded Sidhe fears, but death is one of them. I just can't believe that she'd break the ward and enter the World of Iron again," Prycia whispered.

"Well, it is Daoine Sidhe taint, if you'll forgive the phrasing," Quatre said, his gaze hawk-like in intensity as he glared at her. I was glad that I wasn't the one he was staring down, especially since he seemed to thing that Daoine Sidhe taint was a bad thing.

Hmmm… I'd always thought that the Unseelie Court had been the bad guys. Maybe I'd been wrong, especially if that Ellinea woman was from the Seelie Court.

"But what kind of a spell could she have placed on your friend?" Prycia stated in confusion, her cheeks flushed with colour. Yep, Quatre had apparently managed to embarrass her with his little comment. "There aren't that many forms of magic that shapeshifters will fall prey to."

"It's a glamour, I think," Wufei murmured, gazing down at me speculatively. I grinned up at him, not caring a whit what they were talking about. "A lust glamour, to be more specific. Something that would cause Duo to be drawn to her. Unfortunately for her, she apparently wasn't able to stick around for it to kick in."

"Yeah, she did take off in a bit of a hurry," I said in agreement. "This guy with a long black ponytail and mean-looking eyes came in and spoke to her, and then she up and left. Let me tell ya, that guy was just as weird as she was. Looked like he came right out of the Tokugawa Shogunate, and from the colour and style of his outfit, I bet he was Shinsengumi."

I really liked history lessons. They were about the only thing Father Maxwell and Professor G. could get me to sit still for.

"Oh, shit," Richard said, his expression dark. "This is the last thing we need."

"What?" I asked in confusion—I'd been doing that quite a lot lately, in case you hadn't noticed. "What'd I say?"

"It looks like we have a problem on our hands," Jean-Claude murmured. "If Miburou has allied himself with Ellinea, we could be looking at a rebellion against the control measures the council has instituted. Richard, Asher, please try to locate Shinta. I know he'll be…upset…but I believe that bringing him in on this is absolutely necessary. Meanwhile, let us try to come up with a solution for Duo's…predicament."

Predicament? What predicament? All I needed was someone to screw me silly and I'd be happy…for a while, at least.

I watched from the corner of my eye as Heero looked at Wufei and Wufei looked at Heero. "This could be a problem," Wufei murmured. Heero smirked, and added, "But it could be a pleasant problem.

I glanced between them in confusion. "What are you two babbling about?" I asked.

Great: earlier I'd been vying for the Crybaby of the Year award, and now I was vying for Clueless Moron of the Year. Life sucked right now.

"Is it all right if we return to our safe house?" Heero asked, completely ignoring my question.

"Probably for now," Anita said after she thought about it. "It's getting close to daylight hours, and if Ellinea's allied herself with the vampires, she's not likely to be moving around during the day. I'll take you up to the café myself."

"Thanks," Heero murmured, rising to his feet.

Out of nowhere, a wave of total exhaustion hit; my eyelids were refusing to stay open and my eyes didn't want to focus. I wondered for a brief instant if Quatre had being doing some sort of hand waving and arcane chanting from his corner, but it took too much brain capacity to think about it for very long. I felt Wufei pick me up like a child, cradling me in his arms as we headed for the door. It took him a moment to get my hair out of the way, and I vaguely heard him mutter something about giving me a trim. I was too tired to make death threats for even speaking of bringing scissors near my hair.

I laced my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook. "Will you tuck me in when we get home?" I asked, knowing that I probably sounded rather incoherent. Well, good; I was incoherent.

Wufei chuckled, kissing my forehead briefly. "Aa, Shi-chan. Now go to sleep."

Unable to come up with a suitable retort, I complied and let myself slide into blissful blackness.

[1]. I couldn't really think of a word to describe what Heero is. There isn't really anything like him (so far, anyway) in the actual Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter world. So I went a-hunting back in my video collection, and borrowed this little word from none other than Vampire Hunter D. Arigatou, D-san!

[2]. ::Mina, who's singing while bouncing around on her computer chair.::

'WHAT'S UP
hitomi o kawashite nazomeita kaze ni mi o yudane you
GET UP
mirai o mitsumete yokubarina ai to yume o kanae you'

[What's up
Tear your eyes from the puzzling wind so you can trust somebody
Get up
Look at the future in order for greedy love and dreams to come true]

::wink:: Shameless Bakuretsu Hunters plug. I love the song 'What's Up Guys?' sung by Furumoto Shinnosuke & Hayashibara Megumi. It's just so…fun!

Author's Delirious Ramblings: ::blink, blink:: Okay, minasama, here's the explanation for what the hell happened to this chapter of Blood Dance. At least, I think it's an explanation.

You see, the chapter began in a cheery little computer room, deep within an unexplored sector of the Makai. It was heading for a nice little place known as 'within-acceptable-limits-of-insanity-for-a-fanfiction-author-who-isn't-quite-human'—::Kagekoku - The Shadowlands:: website—when my foxboy muse had to poke his wet nose into the matter. That's where everything went wrong. The story then took a left turn at Albuquerque, stopped for a week or two in a falling down hut in backwater Mongolia, jumped a freighter for Cape Verde, and somehow managed to wind up in one of Washuu-chan's dimensional closets where it underwent only Megami-sama knows what type of deranged experiments.

Are you lost yet? Don't worry; I think part of myself got left behind with Washuu, too.

Basically, Part 4 took on a life all of its own. I felt as though I was merely a bystander watching in horror as this latest act wrote itself. My original intentions were for this to be a 1x2 story, and now it's ended up being a 1x2x5 with 3x4 jumping in on the action occasionally.

::sigh:: And one of the things I said I'd never do was write threesomes. Mou, would somebody smack me upside the head, pretty please? Besides, it's not like you're complaining about this particular threesome, right? Right?

Also, I didn't really intend to throw Rurouni Kenshin in here. I had intended to throw the Tokugawa Shogunate stuff in, and somehow Kenshin and Saitou just popped in. Hontou ni! It wasn't on purpose, but I like it, so it's staying. Though I have a feeling Saitou may end up with some Kaze Hikaru influence thrown in.

Anyway, I hope that everyone enjoyed this instalment of Blood Dance. It was quite literally a labour of blood, sweat, and tears—as well as no small amount of foul language—and, as much as it pains me to admit it, it was quite fun to write. Hopefully I managed to stay along the lines of the Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter novels with the way this part flowed; there were sometimes that I wasn't quite sure if I was.

As always, feedback is craved as much as Pepsi and Pocky. Jaa ne, minna!

[Part 5]