AN: Rewritten October 14th, 2012. More focus on Batt/Kaoru, less stupid involving the club scene.

Warnings: Some language, minor violence.

I Am...

Chapter 5: The Club

She was pretty sure corsets were not conducive to proper utilization of one's physical capabilities, but apparently that was what she was stuck with. Fortunately, it was less designed to destroy her internal organs and more design to push up everything she had. Which, admittedly, was not a lot.

She curled her lip as she stared in the mirror. She had never been a fan of skirts. Or lots of bling. At least they had the mindset to not give her dangling earrings. Someone would really rip them out knowing her luck.

Reaching behind and pulling the wedgie that was her thong out, she grimaced and pushed back an errant strand of hair that did not stay in the mess that was the top of her head. She reeked of hairspray and mousse. All this for some stupid information.

There was a reason she had preferred just killing things.

Trying to remember how to successfully walk in stilettos, Misao walked off to where she was supposed to disembark for this godforsaken job. 'Cho damned well better have something good for me to use tonight... It needs to involve fire.'

Fire was not involved in the weapon she was rented out, but she was OK with that. He had taken her preference for knives to heart and given her a set of pointy objects to hide on her person. It had been a bit of a trial to find locations to hide them all, and she suspected he had been more than glad to help.

Half an inch closer to her ass, and he would have lost that finger.

Soujiro came around the corner then, dressed in clothing that fitted the setting, but certainly seemed more practical than hers. Damn men and their lack of corsets and stilettos. She paused, considering Kamatari. Damn straight men...

He wore dark colors, and much to her amusement, had eyeliner on. The smirk tugging at her lips was met with a pained smile on his end. All he needed was some glitter, and then Misao would have been rolling in laughter.

Cho handed him the pair of guns and spare clips the man hid on his person, and Anji approached, dangling a set of keys. "C-24," He rumbled quietly, before stalking off.

Soujiro pocketed the keys. "I have our parameters. Let's go."

Enishi had given her praise on a job well done. Kaoru was not sure why since she had done little out of look like a pretty decoration, but she supposed the "be quite and look pretty" stance on things was something he enjoyed.

The lingering touches on her skin that he had left also indicated whatever else he might enjoy. Annoyed, she stepped into her apartment, her actions belying her frustration. Yukishiro had supplied her a new apartment, car, everything. She knew why, too.

Everything was rigged.

She had no doubt he was monitoring her every move now, and so she did not let her guard down in the slightest. She doubted she had an ounce of privacy from where he was concerned, and she only wondered if some middleman was monitoring the cameras, or if he was doing so himself.

As her dress slipped to the floor, she figured it was likely the latter.

Moving across the floor with the grace of a cat in her undergarments, she turned a lamp on near her bed and sat down. Her mind pulled at ideas of how to shake their watchful eyes so that she could do her real job more efficiently, but without making it obvious that she was looking for escapes, it was going to be hard.

Sighing, she flipped the television on and flopped back onto the mattress, uncaring who was getting a nice view of her bikini line.

Misao discovered that "C-24" meant the parking space assigned to the vehicle in question. Now flying down the road in a black Maserati, which was completely and utterly over the top in her opinion, she could only stare out the window and think about her life as it was.

Soujiro occasionally interrupted her thoughts with information regarding the job. Misao did her best to not look annoyed. She was being bratty, and she knew it. If she did poorly on this, she likely would not get another shot. Shishio would not tolerate incompetence and pettiness.

Soujiro parked some distance away from their destination in a deck, and so Misao was forced to walk in the cold. She had forgotten a jacket, and while the winter's bite did not hit her like it did most others, even she felt it with hardly a stitch on. She sucked it up though, folding her arms across her chest and doing her best to not tremble.

It took her a moment to realize some of the chill lifted. She glanced down to see the Tenken's jacket over her shoulders, and she quirked a brow at him. He smiled, shrugging. "Being a popcicle doesn't help us get the job done. I'll take it back before we get in, though. We need to go in separately."

Right. They were not supposed to be a couple or know each other. That way she could easily mingle and he could get the information without them looking like they were connected.

She went in first.

Everything had been rigged so that she would have no trouble getting in, and she found herself in a hot, sweaty building with heavy bass ringing in her ears and the smell of too many things all at once. She had not been in a scene like this in a long time, but it was not hard to fit in. She wove through the dance floor, eyes scanning for anything and everything out of the ordinary.

It took her about ten minutes before she muttered softly, "Clear." Even over the thrum of music, even with all the noise, the word reached Soujiro clearly thanks to the strange little thing pressed against her throat and hidden by the thick necklace she wore. She heard an affirmative in the tiny piece of technology in her ear. This stuff was beyond her, but she did not question it.

She saw him come in, his body language lax as he blended quite easily in with the crowd. That smile of his really helped here, making him appear easy-going and approachable. She did her best to not focus on him too much, keeping her eyes on the rest of the crowd, and when she finally saw him again, he was sliding into a booth in the shadows. A man sat there already, one she had seen earlier.

That must have been the informant.

She moved around to a better vantage point, hips grinding briefly against someone who got close, and she paid it half a mind as she positioned herself to see the majority of the room as well as the two men. The informant was tall, and the way the lights glittered off his face suggested a sincere amount of piercings.

That was about all she could see and turned her attention away from them to focus on the doorway once more.

"Whadaya want?" His voice was a drawl, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he chewed on a martini straw.

Tenken's eyes slid around the room as he murmured softly, "The strong will live, and the weak will die. How do you side?"

A slow grin stretched across the other man's face, teeth very white in the shadows of the booth. "I'm the strongest of 'em all. So whadaya want?"

Soujiro nodded. "Zanza, you have some information for the Ten Swords. I am here to collect it."

The other man canted his head to look at him, eyes sliding around the perimeter before he exhaled softly, "I hope you guys are planning for something big."

Soujiro arched a brow, lips pulled up in a tiny smile. He said nothing and Zanza pursed his lips before tossing a tiny square no bigger than his thumb. "It's all I got, but it's big. You don't have a lot of time."

"Do you need to get out?"

A pause. "I might. I can't promise I can find much more out for you. I could drop this act and go back into fighting, but someone might recognize my face."

Tenken nodded, agreeing. "The money will be in your secondary account within the hour. If you choose to leave, send me a message. Ten Swords will be glad to assist your relocating. You have been most vital to us."

Zanza nodded and slid out of his chair. "I'll let you know. Enjoy the night. Your chick is hot."

"Like heartburn" Soujiro muttered, smiling still. "Clear?"

"Yeah. What's like heartburn?"

He paused, before muttering, "Just the atmosphere here. Mingle, then we'll make our leave."

She did just that, as she had been doing all night, moving to the music and pushing up against bodies she did not know. She was not sure how much time passed before she saw them enter. Two men, both large, muscular, dressed suspiciously... out of place.

"One o'clock, two. Together. Guarding the exit."

"Affirmative."

The voice was in both ears and she whirled around on him. He caught her by the waist and pulled her close, nose pressing into her hair and body dangerously close. "Talking at nothing looks strange, especially to well-trained eyes. Stay with me."

She had no choice. She scowled, but reluctantly slipped her arms around him, hips moving against his in ways far more intimate than she really, really wanted. She hated crap like this.

He was moving her, so fluidly and naturally that for a while she did not realize it, keeping her head slightly down and focused on her rhythm. By the time she noticed where she was, his hand gripped her waist tightly to signal her attention. They were on the outside of the crowd, as close as they could get to the exit without leaving their cover. Neither man had moved.

She grimaced, watching how they scrutinized the few people going in and out. She did not doubt someone was on the other side doing the same thing from the shadows. They could chance making it past them, but did they have faces and names? Or were they just going off of a tip?

She glanced up at Soujiro and his near-pensive expression seemed to reflect a lot of what she was feeling. His lips were barely a smile.

"I can take them out," She commented softly, nose nuzzling his neck.

He stiffened at the contact before replying, "Quietly, without drawing attention to yourself?"

"They'll never know it's me."

"Do it."

She pulled back from him only slightly, fingers sliding up his arms and shoulders. He watched her curiously before she slipped her hand up through her hair, fingers finding what she was looking for. With a soft click the needle came free of its holder, and she moved to the next one, doing the same. These things were not what she was used to throwing, so small and precise. But their weight was heavy, and gave her a sense of familiarity. It would be close, but no one would notice if she missed.

Well, unless she hit someone else.

Pursing plum-painted lips she watched the first man and waited for the path to be clear. He was glancing away, and then the couple that had been lingering in front of her moved to the side. There. She twisted, dipping back and hoping Soujiro would not drop her as she flung her arms out in what appeared to be a careless gesture. The first needle founds its mark in the man's neck and he reached up to slap his hand against it before he jerked it out quickly. With his distraction, Misao threw the other, and it found mark in a similar location.

She felt Soujiro pull her back up out of the dip, and she pressed her face against his chest, muttering, "Done."

It was only a few seconds later before the chaos started when the two men dropped. People began screaming, fleeing as fast as they could. Taking the opportunity, Misao and Sourjiro moved with the crowd, hands laced together and pushing through the narrow exit that had bottle-necked the crowd. Neither were scared of anything more than trampling, and as soon as Soujiro pushed through the door with Misao in tow, he scooped her up in his arms and disappeared.

"Put me down, damnit," She hissed once she got her bearings straight and realized they were on the main floor of the parking deck. What's worse was the fact he hardly looked winded from that effort. He smiled at her and then let go of her, allowing her feet to touch the floor. It did not stop her from hitting his shoulder. "Seriously, could we not have just ran like a pair of freaked out clubbers?"

"Not if they had people outside waiting for us. We don't know if they had faces, right?" He lifted his brows and grinned. "Besides, that was more fun."

She growled darkly, shooting him the finger. "Open this stupid door right now. It's fucking cold out." Her words did not hold their usual bite, however.

"Yes ma'am." Ah well, at least she was nice to look at.

She was not sure when she had dozed off, much less why she woke up. Blinking blearily, she propped herself up on her elbows and stared at the television. The volume was too low to have jolted her awake, and so she had to wonder what noise she heard.

Slowly she stood, stretching her arms up over her head and adjusting her bra that had become somewhat misaligned during her snooze. Well, she needed to properly get ready for bed anyway. Yawning, she padded across the floor toward her bathroom, pushing the door open.

Her fingers reached for the light switch but an arm wrapped around her and yanked backward. Her back hit someone's chest, and even before she could scream or retaliate, the other hand clamped over her mouth.

She struggled, but their grip was like a vice. She drew her foot up and lashed out in a sharp kick that made him hiss. His response was to flip them so that she was pressed face-first against the wall with his weight holding her there. In this position, she could not get the leverage to kick at him. She was completely trapped. Panic ate at her, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

His words made her shudder, eyes wide. "Hello, Hikari." He paused, and she could hear the smile, "Or should I say...Kaoru?"

Phoe-chan