Russian Blue

Author's Notes:  I just received the news that a good friend's (almost sister) dad is not doing so good. My prayers (even though they're not very frequent, they do go out with all my heart) go out to this man. And to my friend? Well, I can't say anything else but that I am here for you – no matter what.

At another level. Thank you so much for your kind words. I can't say that enough. I have received many reviews, much more than I had expected for this story (quite honestly, I never expected to gather +10 reviews out of this story... and wow! Now it has 72! Amazing!) and I hope that in future projects you are all here with me as well. This story, however, has a personal feeling to it to some of you. To all those people who have been somehow touched by this story, I want to thank you for the words of encouragement. Now. On with this.

PS:  Happy hollidays, everyone!

Disclaimer:  Fake! Is owned by Sanami Matoh. Other fictional characters and plot belongs to me. The song, "Duvet", is sung by an unknown source right now, but it's featured in the soundtrack for the anime "Serial Experiments Lain"

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Gaiev gave the last smoke to the already finishied cigarette, just outside the Plaza Hotel, where a group of undetected cars had been parking, like it usually was when it was tourist season in New York City. He looked around, figuring out just what the hell he was doing there, but remembering just as fast, like a ray of light had struck his brain and was now revealing the events.

Tonight, tonight, tonight.

He felt confident. Andit wasn't the drugs speaking... Ok, maybe a little. He knew he'd promised Diana to quit, but he was certain that at some point of his life he would have to, either by rehab or by death, whichever came first. And in this point of his life? He was sure that the grim reaper was smiling at him from the lobby.

(*sigh*)

What are you gonna do, right?

The elevator seemed to be taken forever. Maybe it was expectation. Maybe it was anxiety. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't pushed the button to what floor he wanted to go. God! He was so nervous. He felt like a virgin bride about to take the plundge in her wedding night with the wedding's best man. How twisted did that sound?

He reached the room. God! Dorian was such a cliché. In every single room they'd been to it was always the same number. 309, 309, 309. He was sure the hotel had other rooms available, why this one? Maybe it had a special significance in Dorian's life – like, he'd care, right? He knocked on the door and adjusted the microphone in his jacket. Dorian opened the door soon after, smiling and stepping aside to let him enter.

"Come in," he said with a satisfied smile, "I'm so happy they gave you the night off today, you know, being Saturday and all..."

"Let's ge' this over with, shall we?" he said, taking off the coat, jacket and shirt, just another day at work kind of mode, "I still 'ave customers t' tend to, they didn't give me th' bloody night off, you ass..."

"Such temper!" Dorian mocked, "You know, that shit you put in your system only makes you bitter. Why not change to a – better – suited drive?" he said, clanging from Gaiev's arm and pulling him towards the small table next to the bed. There, all lined-up, where four lines of cocaine, just waiting to be sniffed. Gaiev looked doubtfully at Dorian, who smiled and took a taste, as he sat on the bed, bouncing a bit at the motion, "See?" he said, "I got this surprise for you. Nice and clean – none of that nasty skid mark leftover in your pretty little skin... It just looks – ikky."

"Well – I guess tha' finger marks on my neck an' bite marks on my shoulders look more dashing t' you, hum? Because, as you can see," he raised his head a bit to show the faint marks on his neck, "They're still there from th' las' time."

"Don't ruin this for me, Dee," Dorian sounded threatful, "Now, are you or aren't you going to join the celebration?"

"Wha' are we celebrating?" Gaiev asked, sitting next to Dorian, who stood up dancing around the room like he was in a ballroom, huming some strange melody Gaiev didn't recognize, "An' why th' fuck are you dancing around like a princess in the middle of 'er bloody coronation day?"

"Because it's our anniversary, silly!" Dorian stopped dancing all of a sudden, "Don't you remember? This was the *grand* first date we ever had, Dee!"

Gaiev rolled his eyes. Again with the "Dee" thing. He looked over at the lines of cocaine as Dorian approached him and threw an arma round his shoulder, "If it makes you feel better, I'll try the first line, okay?"

Dorian took the first two lines, throwing himself back on the bed, gasping and giggling like it was some sort of sweet candy he just took. Why not? He leaned forward and snorted a line... then the other one. God! It feel good! It felt like, like he was in heaven or something, but the nose thing – it was just too... ictchy? It wasn't supposed to be like this – not that he could remember. He brought a hand up to his nose. Blood? Why was there blood on hos nose? He laughed when it finally came to him. How fucking ironic! To die like this, with shit to his neck it was practically up his nose! Ok, it wasn't ha-ha funny, not even funny in any way at all, but then again, he had already taken a shot of heroin that same day, he was probably too high to care and notice if his train of thought was ha-ha funny or not. Either was, this was just F.U.B.A.R., like in that movie...(*)

"Shit," he heard himself giggle, "Bad shit, is it? You're going to make it look like a bloody accident, aren't you?" he said as Dorian had already gotten up, "Who would ever think of investigating the death of a drug-dependant whore who took some bad shit and died, right?"

"Happy anniversary, honey" he heard Dorian said. By the time he turned to face him, Dorian had pointed his gun at him...

I am falling, I am fading, I am drowning

Help me to breathe

I am hurting, I have lost it all

I am losing

Help me to breathe

... and shot.

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Author's notes: Wooo! Thank you, to my hunnybunny! A very nice gift indeed! (Got The Beatles Unseen Archives – a book of over 600 photos!!! Thank you! ;*)

* - F.U.B.A.R. I heard it in the movie, "Saving Private Ryan"; it means "Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition"