*Author's note* Yay! I have created another chapter. I apologize for the formatting of this story, but my computer doesn't like me. I suspect that it is cheating on me with that cute little Pentium next door. Oh well. Again, I weep that Yohji and Schuldig are not mine. Perhaps, someday…but no. It is not meant to be. Please r&r!
Yohji relaxed, savouring the peace and quiet of the taxi. The plane had landed, only forty-five minutes late, and the hotel had assured him that his room would be held. And now that that whiny, irritating German was gone on his own merry way, Yohji was free to enjoy the rest of his vacation. Four weeks on the gorgeous waterfront, hitting all the clubs, meeting all the beautiful people. He was busy contemplating whether or not he would try surfing, when the taxi rolled to a stop in front of a large, elegant looking hotel. Yohji thanked the cabbie and tossed him what he hoped would cover the ride.
Once he was settled in, meaning it looked as though his suitcases had exploded all over the room, he decided to give Omi a call. The kid had told him to call as soon as he got in, which was supposed to be over an hour ago. He waited patiently as the operator dialled him through.
Finally, he heard Ken's voice answer the phone. "Hello?"
"Ken-kun!" Yohji exclaimed, "Miss me yet?" Yohji guessed that Ken was rolling his eyes at that.
"Oh, you left?" came the response. Omi could be heard in the background, asking who was calling during dinner.
"Put the chibi on, will ya?" Yohji said.
It sounded as though the phone was ripped out of Ken's hand, and Omi came on with a worried-sounding, "Yohji? Are you okay?"
"I'm great, Omittchi," he replied, choosing to leave out the run-in with Schuldig on the plane. Omi was worried about him enough already.
"You said you would be landing at six…" A pause. "That was over an hour ago! What happened?" Omi demanded.
"Oh, you know how things are," Yohji said casually, "Delays, that sort of thing. But I'm in now, You've got the number for my room if you need me, and now I'm going out to get a head-start on this vacation of mine. Talk to you later!"
He hung up before Omi could grill him on anything else. Leaving things out of a conversation was easy, but he couldn't outright lie to the kid. And besides, how could he possibly explain that he had seen Schuldig, been sitting next to him, and let him live. Yohji would never hear the end of it.
`Well, at least my boss isn't psychic,' he thought to himself, `Let's see Mastermind talk his way out of this one!'
With that, he grabbed his jacket, pulled his hair back into a ponytail, and headed out to get a scope on the nightlife in the area.
* * *
Schuldig couldn't believe it. "What?" he cried, trying not to fry the manager's brain for what was happening.
"I'm sorry, sir, but your room has already been given to someone else," the man said, "As I have explained to you already, if you had called us to let us know your flight was delayed, we could have held it for you."
"You're trying to make this sound like it's my fault!" Schuldig yelled.
The manager, looking quite exasperated by this point, offered, "Sir, if you'd like to use our phone, we'd be more than happy to find you somewhere else to stay. I'm sure there's an available room somewhere in this city,"
"I see what you're doing," Schuldig said, quieter now, "You just want to get rid of me! Fine, then. Have it your way. I don't need your help." He spat the last word at the manager, spun on his heel, and stalked out of the hotel.
Walking down the sidewalk, he shoved his hands into his pocket, cursing the whole stupid city. The sun had gone down, and the sky was getting dark. A cool wind came in off the water. He was starting to wonder what he would do for the night when he rounded a corner and saw a pub a little ways down. `Might as well,' he thought.
He slipped in the door, the pounding music and smoky atmosphere reminding him at once of home. "I guess a pub's a pub, no matter where you go," he muttered to himself. He glanced around. There were a few couples sitting in booths on one side, a decent sized dance floor at the back was crowded with people, and sitting at the bar…a familiar blonde. He had his back to the door, and was watching the people on the dance floor. Schuldig smiled to himself as he slipped onto the stool beside him.
* * *
Yohji scowled as he watched the mass of bodies writhing on the dance floor. He had been here for well over an hour, and no one had even looked his way. `Nothing like home,' he thought. He was about to order another drink when he felt a shiver run up his spine, as though he were being watched. Or hunted. He turned slowly on his stool to look over his shoulder.
He nearly screamed when he found himself face to face with Schuldig, who was wearing his patented lopsided grin. "What the hell are you doing here?" Yohji asked, his scowl deepening to a frown.
"I like to drink," Schuldig offered, turning to lean his back against the bar, "What more can I say?" He motioned for the barkeep to bring them two drinks.
"You could start with why you chose to walk into this bar, of all places," Yohji said dryly.
"I happened to be in the neighbourhood." Schuldig replied.
The barkeep brought their drinks, and much to Schuldig's surprise, Yohji knocked his back with a curt, "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Schuldig mused, the wheels in his head starting to turn. Cautiously, he began to press Yohji's mind. He was surprised again to find how easily it gave way. "You've been here a while, Kudoh?" he asked, withdrawing for the moment from Yohji's mind. He'd already gathered all he needed to know.
"Yeah, so?" Yohji was obviously not in the mood for talking. Schuldig raised his hands defensively. They both sat silently for a minute, Yohji wondering what the German was up to, and Schuldig wondering how far he could press his luck with the blonde.
Schuldig ordered another round for the two of them, and after Yohji knocked his back, Schuldig made his move. He reached his arm around Yohji's shoulders and pulled him in close, so that the other man's ear was right beside his lips. "Dance with me," he whispered.
Yohji pulled back, his eyes trying to focus in on the German's face. "Why would I want to do that?" he asked, wishing that he hadn't had that last drink. Everything was getting fuzzy, and he almost felt like saying yes to the red-head's request, or command, or whatever it had been.
"Come on," Schuldig said, grabbing Yohji by the arm and dragging him to the very back corner of the dance floor, "You've been sulking here all night, waiting for someone to make your night interesting, and here I am. Are you saying that you'd rather be sitting alone at the bar right now?"
Now that he was up on his feet, and he could feel the music around him, Yohji didn't feel like being alone. And hell, Schuldig was right; he'd take what company he could get right now. And besides, the German was a pretty good dancer.
`He's sorta hot, too,' Yohji found himself thinking. Immediately, he tried to shake the thought from his mind. `What? No. Mastermind. Enemy. Bad. Still hot.' Evidently, the thought didn't want to leave.
Schuldig tried not to listen as Yohji continued babbling to himself, but he couldn't stop a grin from forming. Luckily, he was behind the blonde now, so he didn't notice.
Yohji was almost completely caught up in the music now, and between the pounding of the bass and the amount of alcohol he'd ingested, he began to feel a bit light-headed. He leaned back, finding himself supported by a firm chest and strong arms. For a moment, he almost forgot who he had been dancing with.
Schuldig turned him around gently and steadied him on his feet. "You know, Kudoh," he said, his grin starting to peek through again, "I think you've had too much to drink. Let's take you home." Yohji thought about this a minute, then nodded.
Schuldig looped his arm around Yohji's waist, and a few minutes later, they were at the door of his room. "Thanks for the help," Yohji mumbled as he fumbled with his keys.
"You sure you'll be okay?" Schuldig asked, "Maybe I should come in," There was just a hint of persuasion in his tone.
Yohji paused. "Okay," he shrugged, opening the door and stumbling inside.
Schuldig closed the door behind him, sliding the lock into place. Taking a look around, he thought to himself, `Too easy.'