Yay! Part 3, go me! Hehe, I a poet and I don't even know it...OK, can you tell I'm tired? My apologies for it yet again taking a while to get this out. I hope everyone enjoys this bit, it's shorter than the last. *shrug* Oh well.

Oh, reviews are very welcome...HELL, I'm desperate! I LOVE hearing from everyone :)...Also, due to a rather fun if odd IM conversation there's a little contest...guess what the title, T.B.S. stands for...if you get it right, I'll...ermm, think of something! :) (NO cheating, people who have been told *cough* Neechan! Meghan!)

*****

Yohji stared at the bottle sitting before him on the coffee table.

Slowly he reached out with one long index finger, pushing it a centimeter to the right. And then the same centimeter back to the left. The bottle of scotch remained unopened, as did the several other bottles he had collected and placed near him on the floor.

He couldn't decided whether to drink them or not. Hangovers on a mission were a bitch and it looked like tomorrow night was a go.

On the other hand, he had some toasting to do. A friend, or maybe just a random guy he'd met at a club, he couldn't remember now, had once told him toasting should be done with hard liquor only if one's intent was to get roaring drunk.

Well, right now Yohji felt he very much needed to be good and sloshed.

Decision made, he reached for the bottle, opened it swiftly and poured himself a healthy shot.

"To Omi," he muttered into the silence of the basement.

Downing it, he decided the glass did not deserve to be empty for an overly long amount of time and filled it once more.

"To Ken." Another one down the hatch.

He paused for a moment, considering the next glass. Hell, why not? "To Aya."

The red-head warranted it, after all, for being able to captivate and hold the attention of not one, but two of their fellow teammates. As if Omi hadn't been bad enough, now this thing with Ken...

Yohji shook his head, sighing. During this entire past week, between the reconnaissance and preparations for the upcoming mission as well as the inordinately large number of orders they'd had to fill during the day, he'd seen it. Ken's eyes following Aya with the same hungry look the brunet had once only turned towards him.

It rankled, and yet he couldn't really be mad. Not when he had never noticed the look until after he was being forced to share it. And share was what he was doing because apparently Ken was having as much trouble deciding what he wanted as Yohji himself was, if the amount of times the chocolate eyes shifted from blond hair to red was any indication.

After the first two days, Yohji had decided to also take a gander at what had been stealing Omi's affection for so long and now seemed to be capturing Ken's as well. And, observing him in that light, he supposed the two younger Weiss did have a reason, the man was hot--

"Ahem."

--as well as sexy, Yohji reflected as he looked up into the amethyst eyes glaring down at him.

Kuso, what time was it? A quick glance at the clock showed one A.M. Apparently Aya was back, and at a fairly reasonable time, Yohji told himself, as much as he wished it could have been much later. He hadn't even gotten a chance to go through one bottle...oh wait, yes he had. When the hell did that happen?

Still, more time alone would have been nice, but he supposed the hospital didn't like visitors staying too late, even one they saw as often as Aya. While he couldn't be positive that was where the other assassin had gone, it just happened to be the only thing that made sense.

Ken and Omi were still out, not surprising, really. It was sort of an unspoken rule before any major mission to spend the night before alone, separated from each other. Truly, Yohji was never sure if it was a way for them to distance themselves from people before they started slaughtering them, or simply preparation in case this was the mission they didn't return from. Either way, the tradition held.

"What are you doing?" The cool voice snapped him back. Well, apparently traditions were to be broken tonight. Ah well, at least he wasn't the one who decided that...he was just going to continue it.

"Drinking...care for some?"

*****

"No."

The response was reflex, out before the question was finished. And yet, Aya found himself not turning away as he intended but instead staring at the glass, and the man holding it.

This man Ken loved, and Omi seemed to be warming to.

Without a word, he held out his hand and waited.

It took a moment before the green eyes widened in surprise. Then a slow grin spread across Yohji's face as he grabbed up a second glass, filled it, and handed it over. Topping his own, he lifted it, throwing Aya a smirk.

"A toast, to you and I, to Ken and Omi, to this whole bloody mess." With that he downed the glass and Aya had no choice but to follow suit...and try very hard not to gag. God, the stuff tasted awful! Yum yum, rubbing alcohol, taaassty. He recalled now why he rarely drank.

And yet for some inexplicable-even-to-himself reason, he held out his glass to be refilled. As the blond complied, Aya considered Yohji's earlier words. A bloody mess. Yes, that summed it up nicely.

The past week had been truly unbearable. He had always been sensitive to where Ken's eyes were focused, and thus it had been a slight shock when he had found them constantly on himself. Apparently Omi had gone on to share with the brunet what Yohji had told him. Wonderful.

And then of course there was the teen himself. By the end of this week, Aya had decided he had had quite enough of learning what the cute little animals in the zoo felt like. The fan girls had been bad enough, but he could ignore them. His teammates' eyes were not so easy to disregard.

Most bothersome of all, it seemed that somewhere along the line Yohji had decided to check out what the other two found so enrapturing. Damn green eyes, damn blue eyes, damn brown eyes, he was getting sick of all three pairs being locked on him.

And now the foremost, despite starting to be glazed over from the affects of the alcohol, were once more piercing him.

"Y'know...Aya..." Yohji began, words slurred ever so slightly. That was strange; he'd always thought of the older man as having a high tolerance. It was then he noticed that somewhere along the line they had finished the first bottle and were well on their way through the second.

What was the proof on this stuff again? He couldn't make out the number from here, for some reason his vision seemed to be fuzzy (must be the bad light) but he was fairly sure it had 3 digits. Well, this should make tomorrow night's mission interesting, if nothing else--

A light touch on his cheek brought his attention swiftly back to the man in front of him. Damn, when did he get that close?

"I guess I can see it..."

Aya blinked. "Hn?" He couldn't be sure if it was his surprise or the alcohol or a combination of the two that was making him so utterly inarticulate.

"Why they both like you." Again the gentle caress.

Why am I allowing this? Why aren't I stopping him?

"I mean, when you actually allow that icicle shoved up your ass to thaw a bit, you're really not that bad a guy--ouch! That stung." Yohji cradled the hand Aya had removed--forcefully--from his cheek. "You truly are incapable of being serious."

The blond glared at him reproachfully. "I'll have you know I mean every word I say when I'm drunk!"

Aya considered him with a raised eyebrow, speculating the comment would have been much more believable if delivered with even the slightest hint of straight face.

Laughing, Yohji reached for the bottle. "Ah, fuck it all. Want another?"

And, for some unfathomable reason, he accepted the offer.

*****

Ken, soccer ball clutched in one hand, attempting to juggle his key and cleats with the other, entered the place as quietly as possible, not wishing to wake the others up if they were already asleep. Which was likely, considering the time.

He hadn't meant to play quite this late; he had just been enjoying himself entirely too much to stop. It was peaceful playing alone at night, the only one out on the fluorescent-lit field. Out there, weaving among the deep shadows, it was easy to forget what he would be called on to do the next day.

Ken always found he had trouble leaving the field at times like that, leaving one of the few comforting places and times that he truly felt at peace and in control, but tonight had been especially hard, with not just his conscience in its normal turmoil but his heart as well.

Creeping through the kitchen, he paused, surprised to see the basement door open, a soft light emanating up from it. Curious despite his sensible side's obnoxious protest that he really should be going to bed, you have enough trouble getting up even when you haven't gone to bed at...what time was it?

A swift glance at the clock revealed it to be approaching 4 A.M....ugh. Thankfully he had of late had a lot of practice at silencing said voice, and proceeded down the stairs.

Ken wasn't sure what he had been expecting to find when he reached his destination, but what he did find certainly wasn't it. A quick count of bottles brought him seven, all which looked to have been opened and drained. What the hell where they thinking?

The 'they' to which he referred were both still at the scene of the crime, hunched on the couch, Yohji's head resting on Aya's shoulder, both either asleep or passed out. Judging by the amount of alcohol imbibed, most likely the latter.

The brunet just stared, shocked, trying to grasp what he was seeing. He couldn't believe it, couldn't believe they would decide to get smashed the night before a mission...couldn't believe Aya would ever even choose to get drunk, mission or no mission. He couldn't believe--

Ah hell, admit it, you can't believe they chose to party without you! But just think, now you can do as you please with both of them ! Think of the possibilities...

Thankfully a groan, wafting from direction of the sofa, distracted him from attempting to figure out how one goes about strangling one's own mental voice. Sighing, Ken walked over, debating the best course of action. He supposed he should try to get them up to bed, or at least get some water into them. Doing a mission on little to no sleep was one thing; attempting to quickly and efficiently infiltrate and kill a group of extremely corrupt and shady business men with a hangover was quite another. "C'mon guys, you really should get to bed."

Reaching out, he gently shook Yohji's shoulder...and found himself being pulled down to join them on the couch, an orange-clad arm wrapped firmly about his waist. "Anoo...Aya?" Twisting around, he could see the redhead was completely unaware of his actions, caught in some alcohol-muddled dream. Unfortunately, his strength seemed not to have diminished at all, and Ken was having a devil of a time getting up.

Or maybe it's just because you're enjoying--err, right, I'll just go sit in this corner over here and wait for your Prozac to take affect.

It was always nice when your inner voice could sense the deadly vibes you were sending it. One problem down, one to go.

Make that two...well three, since I'm most certainly not that easy to do away with. The impertinent little voice snidely remarked as another hand wound its way about his shoulders and dragged him as close as possible without breaking Aya's grip.

Yohji was snuggling him from one side, and Aya was wrapped about his other, one silky strand of red hair draped over one shoulder, luxurious waves of blond tumbling over his other.

EEP!

It was then Ken's mind decided to go entirely blank...even the cheeky voice was silent.

***

Honestly, he would have thought walking in on the sight that met his eyes would have made him jealous, yet instead he laughed. He just couldn't help it. The tableau spread out before him was just too unexpected for his mind to do anything but initiate that response.

The sound, however, jerked Ken out of whatever shocked stupor he had been in.

Brown, pleading eyes met his friend's blue ones. "Omi, tasukete!"

This only increased his laughter. It was all just too much. The stresses and confusions of the last week, hell, the last few months, combined with the bizarre sight of what was obviously a very drunk Aya and Yohji clutching a confused Ken was just the last straw.

His friend stared at him as if he had lost his mind. Well, if he had it was no more than the rest of them...of course that wasn't saying much. Considering the insanities of the last few days, Omi had a sinking suspicion all four of them had, finally, completely and utterly misplaced all their few scattered marbles.

It took him a moment to realize Ken had joined in the laughter.

"Grr...someone care to share the joke? Or instead maybe they could just shut the hell up?" Yohji's muffled, grouchy voice silenced them both as abruptly as they had began. Omi cocked his head for a moment, considering, then turned, making to leave the room. Ken's panicked voice made him pause.

"Omi, matte! Where are you going?"

The teen looked back, throwing a grin over his shoulder. "To get a camera."

"OMI!"

Truly he couldn't blame Aya's long-standing (or for that matter Yohji's new-found) attraction to his brown-haired friend. He was just too adorable when he got all shocked and flustered like that.

Ken's desperate pleas for their elder teammates to release him followed the youngest assassin as he left and made his way to the shop, grabbing some paper and pen along the way. Scribbling a quick message, he taped it securely to the door for all to read, and most likely pout about, and then returned to the basement, though not before hastily filling two tall glasses of water.

The relief on his friend's face as he noted the absence of the afore threatened camera was almost enough to start Omi laughing again. Not that it would have mattered anyways.

During his brief absence, Ken had managed to rouse the two older men, as well as make them painfully aware of their earlier actions, if the expression on their faces was any indicator. Each sat as far away as possible from each other without abandoning the much-needed support of the sofa, and they were steadfastly avoiding each other's eyes as well as Ken's, the latter having taken up residence on the floor.

"I posted that the shop will be closed all of tomorrow." He got a nod of thanks from Ken, a grunt from Yohji...from Aya nothing. "Even so, we still should all probably go off to bed, get some sleep."

The relief of having an excuse to depart was palpable from all quadrants. Walking over to Aya, Omi thrust one glass of water into his hand, then passed the other over to Yohji. "Drink," he ordered firmly.

Both did so, though neither looked up, eyes determined not to meet anyone else's. After he saw both were entirely finished, he collected the empty cups and watched as almost in synch the two men rose, Yohji making his way only slightly weaving, towards the door. Aya followed, steps more uneven.

And still no eye contact. Omi suppressed a sigh. "Look on the bright side," he began once he was sure they were out of earshot. Ken looked up, confused, as Omi continued, "At least tonight there's no visual signals, only radios. Otherwise I think we'd be in real trouble..."

*****