Metal Fangs on Satin Glass
Chapter 2
A/N: Know what sucks? Madlax. How many girls-with-guns animes can Bee Train force down our throats before we start to realize that they're ALL THE SAME THING? Sheesh. Please note that this author's note has nothing to do with the fanfiction at hand.
Leon was running through the rain.
Figures, he thought. I've gotta find the goddamn dog while that goddamn kimonoed bastard chills out in the police car. And then after I kill the goddamn thing the inspector's gonna be on my ass about animal cruelty...Ahh! Goddamn! He snapped out of his reverie to kick the nearest thing, upending the hapless trashcan and leaving it with a formidable dent. He just snarled at the chaos he had caused and walked on.
Count D had sent Leon to find a stray dog. Few would notice the absence of a homeless mutt versus a family pet, and getting one from the pound would require more red tape than they had time to put up with. Strays were plentiful on Main Street, Leon's destination, which was merely a stone's throw away from 21st. Sprinting there, and especially in the harsh weather, and in addition to having on no more than a T-shirt and jeans, was beginning to have a physical toll on him. He coughed, stopped his run for a bit, and shivered.
The common cold was no stranger to Leon. In a police job, and especially one as stressful as a drug enforcement officer, nasty viruses like influenza happened to find their way around the immune system, and this was no exception for the temperamental young officer. When one is afflicted with such a problem, it is hardly in one's interest to dash around on a cold and rainy day; nonetheless, duty called for Leon Orcot, and neither sleet nor hail nor freezing rain would hinder him. It would, however, bring him a nasty sniffle.
Leon finally got to Main Street after passing the last of the white- collar houses, and it was a sight for his urban-oriented eyes. Cars slammed down the street, roaring through the rain, horns blazing; their persistence was a cacophonous symphony occupying a vacant spot in his ears. The tall buildings, some of them brand-new and others ramshackle, brought a vague and grungy sexiness to the aura of the city. Alleyways lined with shadows beckoned persistently, having nothing to offer to the casual pedestrian but a mugger with a vendetta against society or a destitute vagrant. The air was alive with the scent of cheap street cuisine and the fall of the dirty rain, and there in busily lonely San Francisco, Leon never felt so alive.
Or cold.
His thoughts, small but persistent vessels, returned to haunt him again. Man, I'm freezing! Some of Count D's jasmine tea would really hit the spot around now...
He stopped.
"Was I just thinking of Count D? And his tea? Gah...Concentrate! Find a dog!" Leon tossed his drenched, limp hair in a fruitless attempt to shake the water out and stalked into the nearest alley. It turned up nothing but some worn-for-wear trashcans and a scraggly cat. Having thought it a small dog, Leon approached it, only for it to hiss and run away. He had never been particularly good with animals.
Alley after alley produced similar results: plenty of trashcans and felines but not a dog in sight.
"Dammit!" Leon exclaimed loudly; his voice was almost drowned out by the forceful pounding of raindrops. "Where did all the dogs in this city go?!" He sat down on a trashcan under the canopy of an overhanging alley, infinitely relieved to be out of the rain. He shivered violently and assessed himself; sitting there, in a back alley in San Francisco, drenched and pissed, wearing a T-shirt with a tree on the front and a pair of jeans.
What the HELL am I doing? he thought to himself, and a sneeze ripped out of his lungs.
"Shit. I am definitely going to get sick."
At that moment, he heard something prowling in the shadows, methodic footsteps wary of the unknown intruder in its territory. Leon quickly rose to his feet, and a pathetically scrawny dog emerged from hiding. It pained the old hard-ass just to look at it. Its wiry frame was soaking wet and covered in sores, and it walked with a pronounced limp on its left hind leg. The dog's tail was ratty and mostly hairless, and similar spots on its body were also missing fur. One of its eyes was covered in a thin layer of rheum, blinded by neglect and malnutrition, and caked with a thick crust of filth. Leon's heart was torn apart at the site of this pitiable thing, its functioning eye glowing with hope that this mysterious man would take it away from that awful San Francisco alley and love it like someone had loved it before. Leon gazed into its heartbreakingly gaunt visage as a moral battle unfolded inside of him. Sacrificing the dog would end the misery that it surely felt, but how could he bear to destroy something with so much hope left inside of it? He called the dog over with a jovial whistle, and it practically galloped towards him despite its bad leg.
"You poor bastard..." murmured Leon as he gazed upon the dog, looking up at him, wagging its Spartan tail excitedly. "Know any tricks, boy? Sit." The dog obediently sat at the barked command, and Leon grinned widely.
At that moment, a flash of realization struck him. Count D, lieutenant Epstein, and all of the other people facing the coatlicue needed him there. He looked at the emaciated mutt, still sitting, still wagging its tail intently, and said to him "Come on, boy. We're going for a walk."
The walk to 21st Street felt a lot shorter with the dog at Leon's side. It had collapsed twice on its hurt limb, and after the second time Leon picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. Upon arriving back at the fracas, he noticed that the coatlicue had savaged several of the police barricades, and the medics were tending to a few more people than before. Two tranquilizer darts were stuck in its shoulder blade, having no discernible effect, and the low rumble of its growl had grown distinctly more threatening. Just as Leon had thought, Count D was sitting inside a warm police car, and upon his arrival he burst out, looking slightly hysterical. He almost ran towards Leon; it was the fastest Leon ever seen the Count move.
"Officer, WHERE have you been? While you were off playing Stupid Pet Tricks, the coatlicue has injured more people! Oh, heavens...What is that thing you're carrying?" Leon looked down at the dog cradled in his sleeveless arms, still looking up at him with happiness shining in his eye.
"It's...it's..." Leon couldn't bear the fact that he'd just selected this alley mongrel to become a tribute to some Aztec goddess cat.
"Well, we haven't all day. Hand it to me."
Leon did not move. Count D took another step towards him. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground, and a spasmodic thought of jasmine tea flitted through Leon's brain.
"Officer, hand the dog to me."
"Count..."
"Give me the dog, or I will take it."
Leon looked down at the dog one more time. It was still happy, tail jerking back and forth. A stab of pain ripped through Leon's heart, but he gave the dog to the Count anyway, almost subconsciously.
Count D then looked down at the canine as well, and he wore an expression of genuine love and guilt on his face. There was something almost apologetic to his pale face. He stepped through the crowd, silently parting the rows of people and the police blockade, and kneeled before the coatlicue. Words in some ancient, dead language parted his vivid lips in a mysterious sibilance, and the angered growl of the cat slowly regressed into a contented purr. The words, falling completely foreign on Leon's ears, grew to a subdued crescendo, and finally with a flourish the Count rose to his feet.
Leon Orcot, for once in his life, could not bear to look at something. The vision of the coatlicue tearing this pathetic dog apart was simply too much for him to bear. He couldn't completely avert his gaze, however, and cast his eyes on the carnage for just one second. In that single, painfully long instant, he saw the face of the dog pointed directly towards him, its innards being torn out by a remorseless savage, and its tail was still thumping against the ground, albeit a little slower, a little weaker.
And its eye still flashed with youthful hope.
Leon collapsed.
Everything went black.
When he came to, Count D's hand was on his face."Gah...Damn you...Get off of me..." muttered Leon, batting away the near-skeletal fingers on his cheek. They were cold, but fit perfectly. Their touch, then, was quite like Death.
He was in a hospital. The halogen light above him pierced his eyes relentlessly and everything surrounding him was a shade of ersatz, unwelcoming white. The Count, dressed in a different kimono, gazed upon him with concern written in his face.
"You've finally come to, Officer!" exclaimed Count D, rising from the bedside chair excitedly.
"Count...how long have I been here? How long have you been here?"
"About ten hours." Leon was not entirely sure which question the Count was answering. "I've brought some jasmine tea. I know how much you like it, despite your nitpicky denial."
Leon opened his mouth to complain, but decided against it. Jasmine tea sounded all too good at the moment.
"Why am I here, Count?"
"Assumedly, you collapsed from either emotional exhaustion, physical illness or both. You will be bedridden for a day or two, I'm afraid." Leon groaned. His chief would bust his ass for missing more work.
"Count," Leon wondered out loud, and the words escaped his mouth before he really realized what he was saying, "why did the dog have to die?" Count D poured tea from a delicate flowered teapot into a matching cup. Leon found that he could hardly lift his arms to take the glass; as if reading his mind, the Count took the glass and eased tea into Leon's lips with the gentleness of a good-hearted matron.
"The dog, Officer, would have died in a matter of time. We all will." Count D lifted the cup away from Leon's lips so that he could speak.
"But...It looked so hopeful...and it was helpless against that beast...Dammit..."
"The slaughter of the weak and the innocent is much like the sound of metal fangs on satin glass. So merciless, so sinful, so silent." More tea found its way to Leon's dehydrated throat. He loved the taste of jasmine tea. So warm and subtle, and the Count hadn't added the three pounds of sugar that he normally did.
"And...what happened to the...coat lick thing..."
"Coatlicue, officer. It had no more reason to continue on this mortal coil, having been appeased."
"So it's dead..."
"It is dead."
"All that trouble...All that heartbreak...Those people killed, and that dog...Just to satisfy the needs of some goddess...That would have died anyway..." He began to cough violently, a tremulous and phlegmatic hacking. Count D released wordless sounds of concern and, after the fit had subsided, steadied the tea at Leon's mouth once more. He smiled at the ailing officer, a winsome and vaguely heartbroken smile.
"Life is heartbreak, Officer. We live and we die, as do those around us. It is the cycle of life."
Leon said no more. He only stared out the window, to the true light, and the truly white birds arcing across the horizon, and with a final fleeting glimpse of hopeful light he closed his eyes and slept.
A/N: Well, that turned out pretty well! And, just as a note, the coatlicue is a real creature, with all of the associated mythology having been mentioned in this fic. Anyway...Drop me a review or two, it's four in the morning and I want to know that my late-night efforts are appreciated. =)