Disclaimer: Again, I don't own them. Just having fun. Excuse any OOC. I'm trying to be as IC as possible under the given circumstances. ^_^
Chapter Three
Something wasn't right. Something sure as hell did not feel right.
Aya exhaled deeply, resting both palms of his hands on the wooden kitchen table as he waited for the room to stop spinning. It was starting to make him nauseous – something that just did not happen to him.
The footsteps coming up the stairs forced him to stand back up, collect his mask and defensives even though he should have been running away from any unwanted encounter right about now.
When he turned he came face to face with bright emerald eyes. Yohji blinked, obviously not having been expecting the encounter.
"You alright?" He asked his younger teammate. "You look kinda pale."
"I'm fine," was the only response uttered out of those tightly pursed lips before he moved away with some urgency.
"By the way," Yohji called.
Aya paused, not turning but simply waiting for the other to continue.
"Sakura-chan stopped by earlier."
"Nani?"
"She was looking for you. Maybe you shouldn't be so cold to her, yanno…" Yohji was left talking to himself. Aya had already escaped further lectures. "K'so…" he muttered.
* * *
As it turned out Omi made quite the cute girl but definitely not the right age as their target was looking for. Naturally Ken ended up fitting the part. And rather reluctantly, as is to be expected. The moment Siberian descended the steps into the kitchen where the others already awaited, three pairs of eyes blinked at him. Even Aya, who never allowed any sort of emotion break through that icicle-like demeanor almost cracked a grin. Almost.
Ken was fuming. He stood there in a pair of black pleather pants, which rode dangerously low on his hips. A matching low-rise silver shirt hung surprisingly well from his shoulders - perhaps it had something to do with the nicely defined pair of breasts he had grown in just a few minutes. His short brown hair had been tucked beneath a dirty blonde wig that feathered his shoulders. Ever-stylish high-heeled boots completed the outfit.
He almost rivaled Yohji himself, which obviously had been the source of at least half of the outfit.
"Well," Yohji cleared his throat and adjusted his shades on the tip of his perfectly shaped nose. "It's almost tempting to try my never-failing charms on you, Kenken."
"Shut up." Ken muttered and stormed past them into the garage where the Seven awaited their presence.
"You forgot your purse, Kenken!" Teased Omi, running after him with a stylish black lady's purse large enough to carry his trusted weapon. Just in case there were any problems and the others weren't around.
"Traitor," muttered Ken and climbed onto the back seat.
* * *
Amethyst eyes narrowed before the flashing neon blue sign reading "The Hideout." Aya stood across the street from the building, silently watching the wave of eager bodies go through the ID check at the doors. All to join the already thick cloud of teens moving to the heavy beats of synthesized music - what they liked to call techno. He just didn't understand the point of it all. He watched Yohji and Ken easy go through the check. It seemed that the bouncer already recognized Yohji from an earlier date. Not surprising. Balinese had dressed for the occasion and probably a little too well: hip hugging black vinyl pants complimented those long legs of his; the traditional belly shirt hug tightly to his nicely toned upper body, the well-chosen tone of forest green drawing even more attention to those emerald eyes, once again hidden behind his much-loved shades. As if all this wasn't enough, a long white coat hung open from his shoulders, flapping quietly with his every step. The man was sex on two legs. And knew it.
"..inian?"
Aya was startled away from his thought process. Damnit, he'd been caught inattentive.
"Yeah, what is it?" He answered without sounding too snappish.
"I'm in position. It's all clear for you." It was Bombey.
"Alright." He responded, crossing the street. Even in his mission gear he got the usual admiring looks but none dared to approach. He moved quietly into the shadows of the small alley beside the club. There was nothing but a single entrance into the building and plenty of large garbage bags filled with empty beer cans. Further up was a set of iron gates, shut and locked to keep away any intruders. However it wasn't meant to keep Aya out. Moving with the grace and stealth complimented by his code name, he effectively climbed over the heavy iron-gate. He surveyed the lot before dropping silently to the ground in a neat crouch.
"How are you guys doing in there?" He heard Bombey address the others. Two affirmative replies followed.
"No signs of trouble just yet." Added Yohji. Aya could almost see him weaving through the crowd with Ken closely at his side. It was almost enough to feel jealous over.
Jealousy? Aya? Since when?!
He scoffed to himself and walked across the dark lot. Few cars had been parked there that night. Obviously the VIP count that night wasn't too high. He wasn't sure whether this was a good or a bad sign, but frankly he couldn't find it in himself to care. But just why couldn't he get the image of Yohji draped over Ken out of his mind? He'd never cared about this sort of thing before so why the hell now? And why in the middle of a mission when his focus had never failed him before. They would probably even go as far as making it look "real" for the sake of the mission if it came down to it. Gloved fingers tightened around the hilt of his trusted katana as he struggled to remain focused on the matter at hand.
Is that ever-cold mask crumbling beneath the jaws of jealousy?
The laughing voice inside his head caused him to freeze dead in his tracks. He scanned his surroundings closely, searching for any signs of the intruder. There was nothing but darkness around him, however.
Perhaps he had just imagined it.
Don't flatter yourself.
Again Aya froze, this time certain that this wasn't just a product of his imagination. He did not respond but did not precede either. He could hear Ken announce that he had spotted the target and was moving on with the plan, but none of this really registered in his brain. His gloved hand twitched around the leather bound hilt of his sound.
Finally the source of his distraction made himself known. It was a face Aya had seen before and identified as an enemy without the slightest of hesitations. Fiery red hair brushed dark green clad shoulders. A wicked grin touched the other man's lips as he leaned against the side of a car, hands casually seeping into his pant pockets. A brow was arced, grin widening; teasing, mocking, distracting.
"Aya, come in!" It was the third time Yohji screamed in his ear. "We need you in here damnit!"
"Goddamn it Aya! What the fuck are you doing?" It was Ken. Something was obviously going on in there.
"Schwarz," was his only response as the black sheathe of his katana fell to the concrete floor.
"Whoa," Schuldich laughed. "Aren't you the poster boy for lack of anger management?" He quickly leaped to safety. To Aya's misfortune, the Schwarz member was much too quick, despite his skills.
Abyssinian stumbled forward and reached out. A gloved hand connected with the window of the car, stopping him from the impact. After taking a moment to compose himself, he whirled around, amethyst orbs narrowing on the ever-smirking man.
"What are you doing here?" Hissed Aya, giving him his copyrighted glare of death. Even the blazing sun would freeze under such icy scrutiny.
Schuldich simply moved fiery strands behind his shoulder. "You amuse me, my dear white hunter."
I am not yours. Aya muttered silently, thoughtless of Schuldich's ability to hear him just as well, if not even better. He was met with a wide green and Schu's fingers digging into his chin. The icy expression was replaced by one of surprise.
"Let go of me!"
"All in due time. Ran."
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I'm evil, I know. ::Grin.:: You may squirm until the next chapter pops out of my mind. Reviews? Anyone?