Part 8

"Is Omi coming too?" Aya asked looking around the Okiya for his partner in this.

"Omi hasn't stopped being sick." Kaasan said folding her hands in front of her. "Ken and I will watch over him, Obachan is attending to the other geisha, your friend, Yohji, will be escorting you tonight."

Aya paled. Rather than the usual round of parties tonight Murasakiiro was attending one exclusive party held by an important figure in Kyoto politics and instead of a kimono wore an expensive ball gown in a very dark blue velvet, her hair was pulled up into a twist and the only jewellery she wore was the string of pink sapphires around her throat and the twin gold pendant earrings. There was a white satin scarf over her shoulders and the other three geisha in the okiya were ready to murder her that she had been invited where they had not. All the important men in the city were to be there. She didn't tell them she was there as Crawford's guest. "Is Yohji driving such a good idea? Doesn't he have work to do?" This rather loosely in her head translated as, "I'm in deep trouble, he's really jealous, he followed me this afternoon and if you leave me alone in the car with him there is a chance he just might abduct me. And not only that he drives like a lunatic on amphetamines, if you value my life, please let me drive."

"There is no one else to drive you." Murasakiiro went to say something. "And it is not fitting for a geisha to drive herself in the limousine." Kaasan cut her off quite sharply. "He will drive you there, you will meet Crawford-san who is paying a healthy amount for your time, and then you can call him and he can come and pick you up."

"Aya and Yohji sitting in a tree, f u c," Kaasan silenced Ken with a lacquered fan deftly applied to the back of the head.

"But..."

"It is not unusual for a geisha to be torn between two men." Kaasan said arranging the layers of Murasakiiro's skirt to her satisfaction to better show the white satin pumps she was wearing. "It will be the making of your fortune, especially as they are both such handsome men."

"But I don't want either of them." Murasakiiro protested. She fell silent for a moment and then touched the string of pale pink sapphires around her throat. "It's going to be hellish, I have to be a guest and not a host and Crawford's going to want me to dance and Yohji will be at the window spying, and I'm not a geisha, I'm an assassin-florist." Aya stopped realising just how stupid this sounded, then raised his head and went to the car muttering. "Must not kill Manx. Must not kill Persia."

Yohji held the door of the limousine open for Aya, after leaning in to lay a gentle kiss on his cheek. "You look, wow." He said, openly speechless at the transformation that they had worked on what had been, only a fortnight ago, a taciturn florist in a bright orange sweater. Now he looked every inch a movie star from light makeup and hair extensions that showed off the perfect sweep of his neck. Okay he was in drag, but he still looked a million dollars.

Yohji had made an effort. He was wearing a suit, albeit his shirt was pink, and had tied his blonde hair back in a pony tail. He had a pink rose in his button hole and he offered a bunch of roses to Aya.

Aya frowned, accepting the flowers. "Yohji, you're just driving me tonight." He said sadly, "until this mission is over you can't afford to take me out. I'm too busy and you can't pay for an hour with me."

"Why what's the going rate?"

Aya told him.

"Wow." He answered, "five hundred thousand yen a night?" He pressed.

"No," Aya said, "an hour."

Yohji thought he would faint. "and this gaijin can afford this?" He asked.

Aya nodded.

"Well if you're mercenary enough to do this." Yohji said opening the door for Aya.

"It's nothing to do with being mercenary, we have a mission, it's not my fault that I'm popular, I've never been popular. I shi-ne'd a client the other day and they laughed and my fee doubled." He climbed into the car arranging his floor length skirt. "I'm not talking about this."

"But you'll talk about it with him." Yohji snarled getting into the driver seat.

"Shi-ne, Kudoh."

An entire floor of the Kyoto Royal Hotel had been given over to the party, the limousine joined a queue and Yohji looked back at where Aya was sulking in the back. "You could at least look sorry." He said as they approached the main entrance where five bouncers were glaring at crowds that had gathered to see the high powered and famous of Kyoto gather for the party.

"I haven't done anything wrong." Aya answered, checking his makeup in a small compact that he had in a beaded clutch purse. "If anything I'm a victim of my own celebrity."

"You have distinctly avoided me." Yohji added.

"No, I haven't. I have been a geisha." Aya answered.

"But I love you." Yohji protested, pouting just a little, knowing no one could resist his pout.

"I'm not in the mood for this." Aya snapped. "I have to go in there a guest of my stalkerish gaijin customer and be nice to all these people, and the paper this morning said that Takatori would be there and I can't go in armed because I'm a geisha and there's no where in this dress to hide anything bigger than a safety pin." He stopped, out of rant.

"You could strangle him with that choker." Yohji said.

Aya touched it gently. "It is pink." He conceded.

Crawford gaped for a moment at how beautiful Murasakiiro was. She climbed out of the limousine with delicacy and grace showing just a hint of a long white leg and a white satin pump under a midnight blue velvet skirt that hinted at fluidity. He then took a deep breath and offered his arm to meet her. She smelt of hibiscus, orange blossom and night jasmine. "Crawford-san." She said with a faint and rather genuine smile.

"Saki-chan." He took her hand and grinned at her. For some reason all sensible thought had run out of his head in the instant that he had seen the string of pink sapphires around her pale column of a throat. She looked haunting. He was suddenly glad that his employer had demanded he attend this party, the other members of Schwarz were loitering around Takatori, Nagi making the most of the buffet, Schuldig doing his best to charm every attractive person within a thirty five foot radius and Farfarello humming under his breath some song that apparently hurt God. Sometimes Crawford wished he could leave them at home.

"Way to go, Crawfish," Schuldig said in his head, noticing his date for the evening. "When you said you had a date I thought you'd found some like minded American business woman with more appointments than sense. But wow."

Crawford looked clear at Schuldig over Murasakiiro's shoulder. "Mine, and I am not sharing." He thought back with a smile as he led her unto the floor for a dance.

"Hell, I wouldn't either." Schuldig said. "Far says that hurting pretty women hurts God, but so does pink, so he's going to let her live."

Crawford blinked, there was no making sense of Farfarello's madness sometimes. "That's good to know."

"You seem distracted, Crawford-san." Murasakiiro said looking up at him, she was almost of a height, but there was a bit of a difference. It made her thin violet coloured eyes almost haunting.

"It is nothing, Saki-chan, I just thought that I saw someone I knew." He said whirling her in time to the music.

"Good cover, Crawfish." Schuldig laughed. "Mind if I cut in?"

"Try it and I'll cut you." Crawford answered

"You dance beautifully, Crawford-san." Murasakiiro said smiling at him. "Dancing with you is like dancing on the clouds."

"Beautiful and eloquent." Schuldig drawled. "I'm sure you picked this beauty just for her sparkling conversation."

"Remember that Tom Cruise movie, Legend." Schuldig's eyes narrowed for a moment trying to figure out where Crawford was going with this, "If you don't shut up I'm going to bake you in a pie. And tell Nagi to go easy on those vol-au-vents if he doesn't want to be sick."

Murasakiiro suddenly froze, as he was facing the rest of Schwarz Crawford knew that it couldn't be them, so he carefully turned her to see what she had seen. A tall broad man with a beard was stood next to a lovely red head in a kimono. Crawford would have laughed if he'd seen it coming. Shuiichi Takatori and his lovely secretary Hanae Kitada were really among the last people anyone expected to be here this evening.

Farfarello was suddenly a part of their mental link, rather than just humming maniacally he had decided it was much funnier to sing words "sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye." Crawford's eyes narrowed wondering where this was going, but having a sneaking suspicion. One didn't really have to be precognitive to see what this was leading to. "Four and twenty Schuldig's baked in a pie, when the pie was opened the Schuldig's began to scat, now wasn't that a pretty dish to set before the cat. Oracle was in the counting house, counting all his money, Nagi was in the parlour, eating bread and honey, Farfarello was in the garden, hanging out the clothes, when down came a Schuldig and cut off his nose." Even without a vision Crawford knew it was going to be a long night.

Aya caught Manx's eye and gestured to the ladies toilet. She frowned at him, and then met him by the mirrors. "Why didn't you let us know you were going to be here?" He hissed.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Manx asked, leaning back, she was wearing a dark red kimono with a white obi and her hair was carefully pulled away from her face with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's me, Abyssinian." Aya murmured, pulling up the fitted bodice of his gown.

Manx looked him up and down, "wow," she said, "photos don't do you boys justice, now do they? Why are you here?" She tilted his head as if looking for the place where the illusion that he was a woman ended.

"I got invited, Kaasan wouldn't let me not come. Was that woman an assassin as well, she's ruthless enough." Manx stifled a laugh. "I even have a date, and it's sexual harassment, I tell you. Had I known you were here I wouldn't have made an ass of myself in front of him either." He looked genuinely annoyed, and although he had never quite dared to grace her with one of his famous "shi-ne" glares, which Yohji maintained had five levels of strength, it looked like he was getting quite close.

"What did you tell him?" She asked.

"That I thought for a second I knew you. Schwarz is here, but there's no sign of Takatori." He looked around the small bathroom. "I can't stay in here long, he's not so much a date as a stalker, and there's only so long I can stay away before he gets worried I've jumped out of the window or something." He went to go but turned back. "Men really don't appreciate just how uncomfortable these shoes are." He rolled his shoulders.

"Aya," she called after him, "you look fantastic."

Crawford was waiting for him outside the bathrooms. "So, your real name is Aya?" He asked. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, more than annoyed he looked amused.

"Yes," he answered simply, "but I prefer Saki-chan because you are the only one to call me that."

He put his hands on his arms and leant forward, taking a deep breath along the edge of his neck, Aya felt his knees go weak and was glad that Crawford was holding up. He also got the distinct impression that he was about to be kissed again. "And if I want to call you Aya?" He asked, Aya could feel the heat of Crawford's body against him, less than a breath away, and could smell cinnamon on his breath. Whenever he had kissed him it had been just a light touch, not close enough to know that his breath tasted of cinnamon. A hand reached up to cup the back of his head. "He's going to kiss me, Ohmigod, he's going to kiss me." And the thought wasn't that unpleasant either.

Then Crawford moved, still leaning over Aya he suddenly turned his head to look at the man who had buffeted him. He was tall and thin, with bright ginger hair and a wry smirk. "Sorry to interrupt your wooing but you're wanted." He said in a nasal voice.

"I'll be there in a minute." Crawford snarled at him. "My apologies, Murasakiiro-sama." He said taking another lingering smell of her neck, "but my employer calls." His fingertips ghosted down the length of Aya's arm and lifted her hand to lay a soft and lingering kiss on the knuckles of her hand. He reached into his jacket with the other hand as he turned the hand and laid a second kiss in his palm, then raised his amber eyes with a look of distinct lust and laid a velvet box in the hand where he had kissed. Then with a wolfish smile and a reflected sheen on his glasses he left, leaving Aya standing against the wall and panting.

It took a few seconds for him to collect his thoughts, clutching the box as if it was his lifeline he left the hotel via a side exit and went to look for his limo home.

This is about $5000, and a high level Geisha in Gion can earn this.