Ran sighed and rolled down his window pointedly as Youji lit another cigarette from the smouldering butt of the previous. Youji sneered at him and took a deep drag, but he blew the smoke out his window.

"Don't worry," said Birman from the front seat sweetly, her elegantly manicured fingers curled lightly around a cigarette of her own, "I'm sure you'll die before you get lung cancer."

Youji snorted, turning his head to blow out a cloud of smoke.

"I hope you realize exactly how much trouble you caused," Manx said, stepping on the gas and sliding into traffic. "It took a lot of fast talking just to get them to drop the charges and release you into my tender care."

"It's not like I planned on getting arrested," Youji muttered around his cigarette.

"Shut up, Kudou," Ran snapped.

"I don't want to hear another word out of either of you," Manx ordered from behind the wheel. "How could you both be so stupid? No, wait, don't answer that."

"He started it," Youji mumbled petulantly.

"Be quiet!" Manx barked. "I don't care who started what, I'm ending it right here. You risked everything with that little display of temper yesterday."

"Just drive, darling," Birman purred. "You can chew them out properly at the office."

Manx growled and swerved into the far lane, leaving a cacophony of horns and angry shouts in her wake.

Ran bit his lip and avoided Manx's piercing eyes in the rear view mirror. Contrary to what Youji believed, he had lain awake for most of the night, feigning sleep, thinking over his actions and regretting them. It made no difference that he would rather cut off his own hand than admit it – he was sorry. Youji had the ability to press his buttons, and he had completely lost control of himself.

"Ah, Manx," Youji spoke up. "Did anyone happen to find my shopping bags in the hospital?"

"For fuck's sake, Kudou," Ran mumbled. Why did the man always think of the most frivolous things in tense situations. There had been one mission –

"I thought I told you both to shut up?" Manx ground out.

Birman turned to face the back seat. "I suggest following her orders, gentlemen. You don't want to see her get mad." She grinned and winked at Ran, settling back into her seat with a satisfied air.

Manx swerved again, cutting some poor sod off, and cursed viciously.

Birman patted her knee knowingly. "Rush hour traffic's a bitch," she said brightly.

A tense silence descended on the car. Ran heard a rustle of fabric, which meant that Youji was fidgeting again. He spared a quick glance in the blonde's direction. Youji looked miserable in full daylight, moving every few seconds to shift his weight around, a large purple bruise spreading across his cheek and jaw line. He looked away quickly, avoiding Youji's gaze as it slid over to him.

"Birman," Youji began, but Ran poked his leg before he got any farther. Manx glared at him in the mirror again.

"Aspirin?" Birman rustling around in her purse was the only noise in the now silent car as Manx wove easily through the morning rush hour traffic. The brunette dug a small gold tin out of her stylish black purse and handed it between the two seats to Youji.

"Thanks," Youji murmured, taking out two white pills and swallowing them dry before handing the tin back.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ran watched Youji slump against the door, closing his eyes. Ran avoided meeting anyone's gaze, preferring to stare blankly out the window, watching the buildings speed past, the silence in the car unnerving even for him.

The car bounced slightly as Manx pulled into the underground parking garage. She lifted her hand at the security guard as he waved them past the barrier.

They piled out of the car without a word, Manx and Birman heading up their strange little parade, Youji bringing up the rear. His footsteps were uneven in the echoing staircase. Ran winced. Your fault, your fault, Kikyo whispered in his sibilant voice. Shut up, Ran whispered back. Kikyo subsided into his dream state with a faint mocking laugh.

"Hurry it up boys," Birman called down from the balcony above them. "You look like you're going to a funeral." She giggled.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Youji snapped, leaning on the railing and glaring up at her.

Ran just kept his head down and climbed methodically. If Manx thought he was going to hurry to what promised to be the ass-chewing of the century, she needed to have her head checked.

"I had the crap between out of me not even twenty-four hours ago, and they want me to move faster?" Youji grumbled quietly.

Wincing, Ran bit his tongue and kept going. He jogged up the last few steps, ignoring Birman, who made a mock bow and held the door open for him with a sly grin.

"She's already in her office," she told Youji behind him. "Think you can make it on your own?"

Youji's only answer was an inarticulate growl and a slam of the stair door. His footsteps sounded angrily through the hall.

"Hey, wait for me!" Birman called. "This is too good to miss."

Ran sighed and pulled open the door to Manx's soundproof office. The owner of said office was pacing behind her desk, delicate features drawn into a black scowl, the fingers of her right hand clenching and unclenching in time with her steps. A feeling akin to nervousness settled in the pit of Ran's stomach. He had never seen Manx angry before, and he certainly never wanted to again.

"Sit," she ordered, pointing to a chair in front of her expansive desk.

Ran sat. It seemed like the best course of action. Youji sidled in a few moments later, and paused before taking the other seat. He squirmed around, trying to find a comfortable position. Ran watched him surreptitiously. Birman snuck in behind Youji and closed the door, sealing them off from any possible rescue or escape.

"Would one of you like to explain to me why I had to come pick your sorry asses up from the detention center at eight in the morning?" Manx started as soon as they were seated. "And why the hell didn't you have any ID, Kudou?"

"Ah ... that is ..." Youji trailed off.

"No excuses," Manx snapped, tolerance gone, or perhaps never in place to begin with that morning.

Ran sank down a little farther in his seat. He didn't have any explanations or excuses for his behavior, and anything he could say at this juncture would only bring Manx's wrath down on him.

"And what the fuck were you," at this, Manx stabbed her finger violently in Ran's direction, "thinking with that display of irresponsible, immature, bone-headed example of testosterone driven male-ness?"

Fixing his gaze on a corner of the ceiling, Ran pressed his lips together and remained silent. All he could do was endure.

"You put yourselves and the team at risk. If you'd been anywhere but the Magic Bus Hospital, your covers would have been blown, especially with your," the finger jabbed at Youji, and he flinched, "lack of ID. Can't you sit still?" she barked as Youji shifted in his seat for the umpteenth time.

"Sorry," Youji muttered, re-crossing his legs.

Manx ran her hands through her hair. "Please tell me this was something more than just an argument over who's bigger, boys. Because if that's all it was –" she cut herself off.

Birman sniggered behind them. She skirted around the wall and sat primly on a corner of Manx's enormous mostly empty desk.

"All right," Manx, said, dropping into her chair, anger replaced by the cool mask Ran was used to seeing his employer with. "Here's what we're going to do."

Kicking her shoes off, Birman wiggled her toes in childlike glee. Her nails matched the colour on her fingers, Ran noticed. "Go easy on them, dear," she said. "They can't help being male."

Manx sighed. "I know." She gestured to Youji. "Take him home. I think he's had punishment enough already."

Birman slipped her feet into her shoes, flashing a wicked grin in Ran's direction before nodding to Youji and leading the way out of Manx's office. Ran watched them go with a kind of desperation. Why did Youji get off so easily?

"As for you, Fujimiya Ran," Manx said ominously, "You are also going to go back home."

"Home?" Ran managed. His stomach churned.

"Yes. Your grace period is over." Manx picked up a pen and rolled it thoughtfully between her thumb and forefinger. "Whatever your problems are with Youji, fix them. I"m not going to break up the best team we have just because you two suddenly can't get along."

Ran cleared his throat, but said nothing. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Manx fixed him with her patented (Ran was sure) piercing glare. "That's what this transfer was all about, wasn't it?"

Squirming, Ran worried his lip with his teeth. She was frighteningly perceptive. She had wormed her way through all of his excuses and arrived at the heart of the matter, the thing that he could barely admit even to himself.

"I have taken the liberty," at this, Manx smiled for the first time that morning, "of packing your things. I expect you to be at the Koneko tonight, understand?"

"Yes," Ran said roughly. His stomach had dropped down a few stories, and his heart contracted. He had to go back. He had to go back and face Youji, and –

Manx set the pen down with a click. "I will notify Omi. He was very worried about you, you know," she added in a softer tone.

Ran nodded. He knew.

"I will leave an explanation to them up to you," she continued, standing.

"Yes," Ran said simply, rising with her. He made a short bow in her direction and headed for the door.

"Aya."

He turned.

"Don't make me regret not killing you while I was angry enough." Her tone was warning, but she was smiling.

Ran's mouth twisted. "We'll see," he said.