n_n This should have been written a while ago, but you never know when the inspiration bunny's gonna bite. So. Here's the next chapter. Rating is still G (cue the resounding groans for lack of rough, sweaty, against-the-wall sex) for now, but it will go up, I pwomise. . Um.. disclaimers... If I owned Weiss, then the Gluhen designs would be a lot better! And I don't own Hoobastank either, though I do adore this song.
Thank you for everyone who's been leaving reviews! ^_^ They inspire me to write more, and I appreciate the feedback a ton. So if you like it, hate it, or have any ideas for what you want to see happen, let me know! Can't promise anything, but I do listen to every comment. n_n
Oh, and finally, if you have any specific questions or anything that doesn't fit into the review category (such as fanart? I would love you forever!), I can be reached at lonestarfruit@yahoo.com or on AIM at 'Aya no Chigatana'.
::shuts up and lets everyone enjoy the fic:: ^_^;
~Ko'~
//I don't want you to give
it all up
And leave your own life collecting dust
And I don't want you to feel sorry for me
You never gave us a chance to be
And I don't need you to be by my side
To tell me that everything's alright
I just wanted you to tell me the truth
You know I'd do that for you
So why are you running away?
Why are you running away?//
~Hoobastank, "Running Away"~
Ran was duly impressed with how upbeat Ken could manage to stay around him. The brunette had put on his "game face" and was determined to make the best that he could of being reunited – however temporarily – with an old teammate.
"Hey, Ran, can we go see the Statue of Liberty?"
"...Why?"
But the brunette was stubborn, and there they were on the ferry. Ken leaned on the railing, watching the water splash against the hull, looking out at the ocean, gazing up at the sea gulls, very much enjoying himself.
Ran had his lower back leaned against the railing and stared somewhat sullenly at the captain, who was trying to maintain a cheerful expression despite having a scary-looking foreigner staring him down as he steered.
And of course Ken would want to go all the way up into the torch.
"This isn't in my contract," Ran growled somewhere around the 80 billionth step.
"What, having fun?"
Was Ken making fun of him? Dammit, but the brunette had already turned back around and doubled his pace. Ran considered tossing him off of the torch, but unfortunately the area was glassed in, probably with something just like that in mind.
At least Ken wasn't dragging him around to every single tourist-trap store, though he did somewhat guiltily buy one of those spiky foam Statue of Liberty crowns.
"For one of the guys on the team. His kid always wanted to come to America," he muttered.
The walk around Central Park wasn't that unpleasant despite the frigid temperature – Ran should have packed a coat, but then, he had been expecting to just drive a dignitary back to a hotel like always – and Ken strartled him by expressing more interest in seeing the Metropolitan Museum of Art than the Central Park Zoo.
"Zoos are depressing," the brunette chirped, walking up the stairs of the Met backwards. "Museums are cool."
"...Since when did you start appreciating art, Hidaka?"
Warm brown eyes seemed to close off just a little bit. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Ran."
That gave the redhead something to think about for a while, though he had to admit that the museum was actually a place he enjoyed visiting. He hadn't gotten a chance to see it in a while, and he was drawn to the new section of the Egyptian wing.
"Excuse me, sir?"
Violet eyes blinked down at a rather pudgy, matronly cureator.
"..." was Ran's reply. The woman cleared her throat.
"Are you by any chance Mr. Fujimiya?" He managed not to wince at the mispronunciation, though he'd been getting slowly desensitized to it. "I mean, Ms. Juanez told me to look for a gentleman with bright red hair and.."
"Yes, I'm Fujimiya. What is it?"
Maybe his credit card had bounced when he paid at the door? Not likely considering his insane spending limit, but...
"We just wanted to express our gratitude for your generous donation." She made a sweeping gesture to the new displays. "This is what we did with the money. We just wanted to thank you once more."
Ran looked vaguely uncomfortable and grumbled something along the lines of "I have nothing better to do with the money," though he noticed Ken, who had been staring into a glass-covered sarcophagus, looking at him strangely.
The curaetor wandered off after a few more uncomfortable moments, and Ran pretended as if the exchange hadn't happened. Ken seemed content to not pry as he walked around and peered at anything that looked really really old. It wasn't until they were walking past the Monets upstairs that he nudged Ran with an elbow.
"Ne, since when did you start giving money away rather than hoarding it?"
"Hn." Ran crossed his arms over his chest and pretended to be completely engrossed in a dizzying swirl of watercolor that he couldn't force his brain to form into whatever image it was supposed to be.
Ken chuckled, nudging him again. "Ne, you realize that you look like a porcupine when you do that?" He traced little jagged lines in the air around Ran with a finger. "Quill. Quill. Quill—Oi!"
Ran was already walking away, expensive shoes making expensive sounds on the marble floor. Ken's sneakers, on the other hand, were silent as he ran up to the redhead.
"I'm just kidding, you know."
Violet eyes narrowed as they looked sideways at the brunette.
"Hn."
Ken rolled his eyes, then perked up a bit.
"Hey, it's about time for dinner, isn't it?"
Ran glanced down at his Rolex – silver, with a single small amethyst set in the "12" spot, not the usual diamond-encrusted variety – and nodded.
"The company has working contracts with several up-scale restaurants in the area. There's a good Italian place—"
"Why don't we just get cheap noodles in Chinatown?"
Ran looked at Ken as if the brunette had just announced that he had just been crowned the Queen of England.
"Pardon?"
"Cheap noodles. I mean, doesn't this place have those? I don't like those fancy places, they're always so stuffy an' look at you as if you just rolled in off the streets."
If Ken normally attended them after soccer matches, covered in bits of grass and mud, then Ran wouldn't be surprised if the restaurants looked at him down their noses. Not that he was about to say anything.
"Chinatown is on the other end of Manhattan."
"So?"
"So... the Mercedes is too slow." Ran glanced down at his watch. "Considering the fact that there's going to be traffic starting in about five minutes. And it's too big to get around Chinatown."
"You wanna walk, then?"
Ran gave Ken another semi-dirty look.
"No."
He walked out of the museum and to the parking garage, waiting for Ken to get in before he turned the engine over. His apartment building wasn't far off, after all, and he had his own personal mode of transportation for when mass transit just wouldn't do. One hand steered the expensive car while the other flicked open a tiny cell phone and pushed a speed dial number.
"Charlie, Ran. Have someone pick up the Mercedes at my place. ...Just need something faster. ...Hn." He hung up the phone without answering his boss' questions, neatly cutting across traffic to the sound of several engraged horns blaring.
"Ah... Hey, Ran? Was that legal?"
"Shut up."
He could see Ken sulk out of the corner of his eye, but then he made a sharp turn the wrong way down a one-way street and the brunette just blanched, sinking deeper into his seat and clutching on to the armrest. Maybe the redhead was trying to kill him?
The silver car screeched to a halt under the small canopy guarding the entrance of his apartment building from rain. A valet walked up to the window and Ran showed him his building ID, as well as his parking ticket. He got out of the car (followed by a somewhat shaky Ken shooting him dirty looks) and the valet drove off with the Mercedes.
"So um... this doesn't look like a restaurant."
Ran didn't deign that with a response. A moment later there was a loud roaring noise, and the valet pulled out of the garage on...
"Hey, that's my bike!"
Ran was about to comment on how Ken was going to get run over if he wasn't careful, but the brunette was already running up to it, grinning like a kid handed a lollipop. The valet gave him a weird look, then shrugged and walked back inside where it was at least warm and there were no crazy people.
"Wait, why do you have this?"
Ran walked over. Ken was already sitting on the bike, leaning over this way and that to check to see if everything was in order.
"Kritiker wanted to scrap it." And Ran couldn't quite bring himself to let them. And now, he was sort of glad that he'd had it shipped over here with his other belongings.
The redhead felt distinctly out of place, dressed as he was in a casual restaurant in a back alley in Chinatown. Ken was happily scarfing down a huge bowl of Cantonese noodles in broth and chugging back green tea once in a while at a rate that had the motherly waitress patting his shoulders happily.
"Tell him is good he eat so much, growing boy need to eat!"
Ran stifled a smirk with his hand and nodded.
"Hmm?" Ken looked up quizzically around a mouthfull of noodles. "What'd she say?"
For once the older man was happy that Ken didn't understand English, heavily accented or otherwise. "She said that she's glad you're enjoying the meal."
"Oh! Yeah, it's great!" He turned around in his seat and waved happily to the waitress. "Thank you!"
Ran rolled his eyes and picked at his tiny bowl of white rice with his chopsticks.
"Hey, you wanna try these?"
"No, I've had noodles before and---mmf!"
"Good, aren't they?" Ken grinned, pulling his chopsticks back. Ran glared at him, angrily swallowing down the noodles that had just been stuffed in his mouth. Ken passed him a mug of tea, and the redhead took it, violet eyes still icing the brunette over the rim.
"So you've got to babysit me 24/7, right?"
"Unfortunately."
Ken grinned, and something sparkled in chocolate eyes that Ran wasn't quite sure he liked.
"Good. Since you need to loosen up, tonight we're going clubbing."