Disclaimer/ warnings: You get three guesses and the first two don't count.

A/N: Yay for reviewers! And thanks especially to Sky Rat-san for telling me that sequels are good after all. It makes me feel better about putting off my summer homework to write this. ^-^. Anyway, time for a brand new day! What challenges will our friends face today? What new series will the author inevitably slaughter with her random crossovers? Good question! I can't remember! Let's find out!

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Business the next day found Aya and Ken working the morning shift (Ken having set no fewer than 5 alarms that morning). The fangirls were in and out like a tsunami, managing to knock over thirteen displays, buy all the cattaleyas, and one bold one even dared to pull on Aya's eartails. Unfortunately for the vengeance-obsessed redhead, no one ever figured out which one it was - he was tempted to kill them all after that. His death glare got the girls out of the shop faster than usual, and Aya spent the whole rest of the midmorning sulking. His beautiful hair! How dare they?!

Ken, diligently sweeping up the masses of flower petals triggered by the Mach 3 fangirl winds, wandered over to the rose bins. He noticed the message Omi had left and smiled to himself. Omi and Yohji's relationship filled him with constant glee; Omi had never been happier, he could tell, and that made Ken happy, too. Besides all this, he was extremely relieved that Yohji wasn't really interested in him. Ken shook his head. -Yohji-. Ick. Setting the broom to one side, and assuring himself there was nothing important to do in the shop, Ken began to play with the roses - his new all- time favorite pastime. He made a picture of a soccer ball and several stick figures, one of which was undeniably gripping a katana and mouthing 'Shi-Ne'. Ken giggled lightly to himself. He felt a bit childish, but he was thoroughly amused by his new art-set.

Aya, on the other side of the shop, frowned as he watched Ken dallying in the roses. It seemed that roses were all Ken cared for these days. Aya brushed his fingers over the neglected freesias and proceeded to his companion's side, raising an eyebrow in what might have been amusement at the sight of his rosy counterpart. Ken didn't notice the real redhead's presence, so Aya cleared his throat gently. Ken jumped.

"Ken," Aya intoned, adopting a gentle lecturing tone, "what are you doing?"

Ken looked at his hands, full to bursting with pink rose blooms. Biting his lip, he said, "I'm, uh, making you a bouquet!" He pushed the flowers into Aya's hands, cursing his lack of originality.

To his surprise, Aya blushed. Gently, he put the flowers that now matched his face back into their respective bins. "Ken," Aya tried again, "you spend too much time taking care of the roses." He gestured vaguely toward the rest of the shop. "You need to take care of the other flowers, too - the gentians, for example." Aya crossed his arms in front of him. "You haven't watered them for several days. They'll wilt soon."

Ken flushed, embarrassed. It was true that he'd been spending a lot of time with the roses lately, but, well - "I just like roses the most, that's all," Ken mumbled. //They remind me of you,// he added silently.

Aya shook his head. "Roses are tougher than most of the other flowers - the don't deserve such gentle attention." Ken scowled lightly.

"That doesn't mean they don't need taking care of," he announced defiantly. "The gentians will be fine." He brushed his fingers over the roses again. "They're very pretty - they deserve whatever care I'm giving them." He met Aya's gaze steadily, trying to convey what he was really saying through his eyes.

"They don't suit you," Aya said softly, startling his companion. The redhead fingered the gentians, tenderness evident in his features. "Roses are too harsh for you, Ken. Cruel, and cold, and. . . "

"And beautiful," Ken interrupted him with a sigh. Aya smiled wryly.

"And why wouldn't that be a point in your favor?" Aya asked gently, tucking a stray gentian behind Ken's ear. Ken blanched. Drawing back to the counter, Aya called, "Please take care of the other flowers, Ken." //Well done,// Aya thought to himself as he began the momentous task of accounting the month's profits.

Ken stood by the roses, swaying on his feet, mind absolutely frozen. //Oh my god, he said I'm beautiful,// Ken thought to himself. Then he recovered himself and a lovely smile came over his face. //He said I'm beautiful!// Ken felt like skipping, dancing, and singing. He felt like feeding abandoned children and donating to goodwill and funding environmental protection and-

"Ken," Aya said suddenly, "you're soccer practice starts in ten minutes."

Ken yelped. He snatched his soccer cleats, threw his apron in a heap on the floor, and tore out of the room with a series of panicky cries. Aya shook his head and picked up the gentian that had fallen from Ken's hair - he tucked it behind his own ear and continued calculating. When Omi entered some time later, it was to see Aya practically floating about the flower shop.

"Anou, Aya-kun, you have a flower in your hair," he observed, clearly confused. Aya turned to his coworker, bright-eyed.

"Aa," he said simply.

Omi watched as Aya retrieved the broom and finished sweeping, humming lightly under his breath. "Aya-kun?" Omi asked. "Why are you so. . . happy?"

Aya suppressed a smile but graced Omi with a low chuckle. "I have a chance, Omi," he whispered. "A chance."

Omi couldn't help himself. He grinned.

******************

Yohji grumbled to himself as he wandered down the sidewalk, kicking bad-temperedly at the gravel covering his walkway. He was in a terrible mood, mostly due to his lack of alcohol. That wasn't what was bothering him at present, however. What was bothering him was how much progress Aya was making in his Ken-quest; Aya seemed to be having a much easier time of it that Yohji had, for all his worldly experience.

Yohji wanted to chalk it all up to beginner's luck, but he had a sinking feeling there was more to it than that. He was afraid there really -was- something serious between Aya and Ken. And that frightening thought was all that kept him from interfering in Aya's attempted seduction. The last thing he wanted was to break his two teammates apart - after all, they were both indirectly responsible for getting him and Omi together. Yohji shook his head. If Aya won, he'd be punished again, and that might mean even more time without-

Just then, Yohji ran into someone. He wrenched backwards to find himself staring straight into the amber eye of-

"Hello Kitten," Farfello said, licking his ever-present knife. "Lovely day for a walk."

"I thought Schwartz kept you safely on a leash," Yohji spat, faking bravery - he'd never had to fight Farfello before, but from Ken's escapades with the man, he could guess at how vicious this particular enemy was.

Farfello grinned maniacally. "Oh, they let me off sometimes. Lucky I found a playmate."

Yohji watched his opponent worriedly. He had his wire with him, but he wasn't sure how much use it would be against Farfello's ruthless knives. He took in Berserker's ready posture, sharp weapon, silver flask-

Yohji's eyes widened. Farfello had whiskey! Without thinking anymore, Yohji hurled himself at the Irishman's feet, hands raised in supplication. Farfello moved back, clearly startled, but Yohji crawled after him. "Please - please have mercy! Alcohol - need alcohol!"

Farfello tilted his head to one side, watching his enemy reduced to begging. He looked at the flask in his scarred right hand. Then he laughed loudly and deeply for a full five minutes. He leered at Yohji, then hauled the blonde to his feet, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pressing the flask to his parched lips. Yohji sighed as he downed the burning whiskey. It felt good to be defiant.

"Come with me, Kitten," Farfello chuckled. "I'll buy you a drink." Yohji nodded happily. All of Schwartz could be waiting for him - he didn't care. There was only so long he could ignore the lure of alcohol.

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"Ken-niichan! Ken-niichan!" Ken laughed as he passed the checkered ball expertly to his excitable little charge and corrected the child's dribbling. The boy, one Zelgadis, ran toward the goal, kicking the ball sloppily in front of him. Another of his teammates charged in and knocked the ball away, and the two ran headlong into each other.

"Xellos-kun!" Zelgadis howled. "What was that for? I was so close!" Xellos shook his head as though trying to clear it. He winked at his playmate, then scurried off to rejoin the fray.

"Ken-niichan! Look out!" ten voices cried. Ken spun around to see the errant soccer ball headed straight for his face. Thinking quickly, he bounced if off his head and then flung himself backwards, kicking the ball over his head and into the waiting goal. The kids cheered as he landed hard on his back.

"Ne, Ken-niichan, teach me how to do that!" Lina-chan squealed.

"Ken-niichan, are you hurt?" Amelia asked as Ken sat up slowly, rubbing his left shoulder. Ken smiled, wincing slightly at the motion.

"Nah, it's nothing. That's all for today, though. Get home before your parents start wondering where you are."

Amidst gradually fading cries of disappointment, Ken gathered his things and set off for home, still rubbing absently at his shoulder. //I should put some ice on it,// Ken thought to himself. //Maybe while I watch that DVD I rented - what was it called again? Pokemon?// Twilight settled about him as he wandered through the streets, his mind occupied with one question only. //I wonder if Aya'll watch with me.//

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When Ken got home that evening, he found Omi busily doing his homework and Aya still doing the accounting. Sighing contentedly, he made his way upstairs to the shower, reveling in the all-is-right-with-the-world feeling that filled him whenever they spent the evening without a mission or a 'family argument', as Omi called their little spats. His shoulder still twinged uncomfortably and the warm water wasn't helping, so Ken dressed and situated himself on the couch with an ice pack, a microwave dinner, and the Pokemon DVD one of his pupils had recommended. He thought it might be a bit immature, but hey - as long as it was funny, he'd roll with it.

15 minutes into the DVD, Ken felt a soft touch on his arm. He looked up into the warm eyes of his favorite redhead, whose lovely face was lit by the television screen in an almost ethereal manner. Aya sat down next to the preoccupied brunette and, after observing the screen for several minutes in confusion, asked what they were watching.

"Pokemon," Ken replied with a shrug that made him grimace. "Gourry- chan suggested it."

The name meant nothing to Aya, but he noticed the grimace and brushed his fingers over Ken's injured shoulder. Ken tensed, then forced himself to relax. "Did you hurt yourself?" his leader asked.

Ken nodded lightly. "I guess. I did a scissor-kick today - I landed wrong." He eased himself closer to Aya, faking discomfort with his sitting position. He sighed. //In a perfect world, he'd offer to-//

"Would a massage help?" came Aya's soft voice out of the darkness. Ken whipped around to face his teammate, countenance flushed. His first irrational thought was, //Oh my gosh, he read my mind.// The second, slightly more coherent one came a moment later: //He's waiting for an answer, you idiot!// Slowly, trying to control his blush, Ken nodded.

Aya pulled Ken in front of him, resting the brunette against his elevated knee. Ken stiffened, and Aya raised an eyebrow. "Calm down, Ken," he murmured, running his fingers across his comrade's injury. Ken kept quiet, but his mind screamed, //CALM?! Like -hell- I'm calming down! I'm practically sitting in your lap!// Not that he was complaining or anything. Aya's fingers soothed the injured muscles as they worked back and forth, back and forth. . . Ken felt his eyes slipping shut. //He should do this more often,// Ken mused. //I could fall asleep to this. . . // Ken found himself markedly losing interest in the Anime he was watching.

Aya, by contrast, quickly became engrossed in the Anime Ken had rented. It's true that it was aimed primarily for children, but something about it amused him to no end. He was especially touched by the yellow-and- black creature that zipped about - the companionship between this Pokemon and its trainer almost moved him to tears. Add to this the fact that he was giving Ken a massage and you can understand just how happy Aya was. (A/N: Aya? Happy?) //I can't believe I've been missing so much,// Aya thought to himself as he chuckled at the characters' antics.

He felt a pressure against his chest and looked down, surprised. Ken had fallen back into his lap, head against Aya's shoulder, eyes closed in blissful peace - he was obviously asleep. Aya looked at Ken. He looked at the television. He knew he ought to turn it off and go to bed - his own exhaustion was swiftly catching up with him - but the show was just too entertaining. Leaning back against the couch, he settled Ken more securely against his chest and continued watching the DVD.

When Omi descended the stairs about midnight, intent on procuring a cup of coffee, it was to find Aya and Ken asleep on the couch, leaned adorably against each other, the TV dancing with static. He turned the DVD- player off and studied his companions thoughtfully, then shook his head. //Ken sleeping in Aya's lap? It must have been an accident,// he decided. Then he giggled and snatched the camera from the kitchen counter. He snapped a picture of his sleeping friends, then draped them in a blanket and made his way into the kitchen.

While he was waiting for the water to boil, he heard a noise in the entryway and peered curiously around the corner. To his complete surprise, Yohji stumbled into the room, obviously wasted. The lanky assassin had a ridiculous grin plastered on his face, and he staggered dramatically into several chairs and a side-table before Omi managed to catch him around the middle and drag him into the next room. Yohji grinned derangedly at his suspicious boyfriend.

"Omi!" he said loudly, prompting a fervent 'shh!' from his lover. "Wat're yu st'll doin' up, Om't'chi?"

Omi gave him an energetic frown. "Homework, to start with. And I was waiting up for you, Yohji-koi." Yohji gave him a drunken smile.

"Aww. . . you di'n' hav' to do tha'at!" he slurred, ruffling Omi's hair a tad too heartily.

"Itai!" Omi yelped, rubbing his scalp indignantly. "Yohji-koi! Where've you been, anyway?"

Yohji shrugged. "Couldn' tell ya. Don' rem'm'er."

Omi frowned severely. "Yohji-koi - you know Aya-kun said you're not to buy alcohol for two weeks!"

Yohji giggled in a very un-Yohji-like manner. "Oh, -I- d'dn' buy it, Om't'chi. Gre't guy rilly, boug't me a dri'k 'n all. . . "

Omi sighed and dragged Yohji up the stairs. "Come on, Yohji-koi, let's get you to bed." Yohji giggled again and trapped Omi against the wall. Omi squealed.

"O'k, as long as yu cum w'the me, Om't'chi!" Yohji cooed, dragging a protesting Omi up the stairwell despite his pleas for release. On the living room couch, Aya shifted and fell against the headrest - Ken followed him. The blanket settled over them once more, and they slept peacefully.

End Day 3

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Omi's being a bit trigger-happy, isn't he? Ah well - I'll bet he could really embarrass his teammates with those pictures if he tried.

Omi: Hi, fangirls, look at these pictures I took.

Fangirls: Eek! Aw, KAWAII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Aya/ Ken: No, wait, you don't understand - that was -

Fangirls: Get 'em!

Yohji: Run for your lives!

Omi: Muahahaha!

Anyway, R + R please! It never fails to put a smile on my face! ^-*