"Sum of the Parts"
Disclaimer : You know the drill.
A.N. : Is anyone even going to start retrieving anything? Hmmm… Maybe on this fic, the job is beside the point (wink, wink). Anyway, this is turning out to be one rambling piece, so, big wet kisses to those who are still making an effort to keep up. I originally planned on simply making Ginji and Natsumi drop hints on each other, but Ginji just HAD to wax poetic hahaha. Read on to find out more. Hope no one's OOC. As always, please keep those reviews coming because I really do love to hear from you!
ENJOY!
Chapter 5 : Banshee and Gin-she
Natsumi returned within the hour with a big shopping cart full of shoes, wigs, accessories and costumes covered in garment bags. The boys were astonished that she had pushed the cart the whole ten blocks from her cousin's flat back to the Honky Tonk.
Ginji frowned as he took the cart and dragged it into the dining hall. "Natsumi-chan, you should've called us. We could've picked you up from your cousin's place."
"I'm fine. Really," she panted, standing for a moment at the doorway trying to catch her breath. "You guys have enough to worry about." She put on her apron and checked the clock. Only a few hours remained until the meeting at the club.
"Come on. Let's pick out your costumes, shall we?"
As Natsumi began organizing stuff on the tables, Ginji watched her with admiring eyes, quite liking the determined, take-charge attitude she had assumed.
She felt his gaze boring into her. "What?" Natsumi smiled, tucking a loose strand of raven hair behind her ear.
"Um. Nothing," he answered sheepishly. Snapping out of his distraction, he helped her take out costumes out of the garment bags.
Meanwhile, Ban remained rooted to the bar stool staring at the pushcart. "Your cousin seems to take his drama roles very seriously," he mused. "Is there any possibility he might want a job?"
"I can't pay him, but if he ever needs the Get Backers' services in the future, I'll give him a ten-percent discount…"
"Off your ass, you cheap bastard!" From behind the counter Paul shoved Ban out of his seat. "What happened to the Get Backers motto of seeing an assignment through to the very end?"
"Is that one of our mottos? I don't recall," Ban feebly joked. He ambled reluctantly to the cart. Spotting two brassieres, he held them up.
"What do you think? Should I go with the B-cup or the C-cup?"
---
"There's no friggin' way I'm wearing THAT!" Ban howled, rejecting the 18th Century gown and powdered wig from 'Les Liasons Dangereuses'.
Natsumi had neatly arranged all the costumes and their respective accessories on the counter and was holding them one by one for Ban to inspect. So far, he had said no to the fairy queen costume, an Eliza Doolittle bustled gown and a hideously plain dress from 'The Music Man'.
To everyone's surprise, Ban was being prudent with his choice. In his opinion, just because he had to dress like a girl didn't mean he had to look stupid.
Ban's enormous ego demanded nothing short of perfection, and if he had to convince Kojio he was a female anyway, then he'd make damn sure he was the finest-looking "girl" at the club.
The next outfit was a funky blue beaded fringe flapper dress with matching black bob wig straight from Chicago. The dress complimented Ban's sapphire-coloured eyes, but he thought it was way too short for his tastes. Besides, he knew the black heeled pumps he'd be forced to wear with the costume would be absolute murder to walk in.
Ban was finally left with the obvious choice - an all-black, form-fitting jacket and skirt ensemble that was used as the costume for the 'Wicked Witch of the West' character in 'The Wizard of Oz'. The long jacket was a complicated leather contraption with an asymmetrical hem and high-necked collar, and was adorned with silver zippers, chains and buckles. The skirt was an elegant patchwork of leather and satin that flared into a floor-sweeping train.
Ban took the clothes from Natsumi. "Drat. I guess this will have to do."
Unpleasant memories of life with his grandmother, the 'Last Witch of the 20th Century', came flooding back. How ironic. I wonder what that crone would've thought if she saw me in this, Ban thought bitterly. No doubt, put another curse on me for mocking the order.
"Natsumi, I'm curious." He held the dress up to his chin. "Was your cousin's 'Wicked Witch' character supposed to look like a dominatrix?"
"Dominatrix? Oh – that," Natsumi cocked her head and shrugged. "His drama club is notorious for staging weird adaptations of the classics. I think the wicked witch was supposed to symbolize the evils of Western imperialism– " She stopped, surprised that statement came out of her mouth. "- or something like that."
"Sheesh. You teenagers are so whacked," Ban clicked his tongue, apparently forgetting that he was just out of his teens himself.
Ginji waved his hand, trying to catch his friends' attention. "Excuse me. How about me? What am I going to wear?"
"Ah. Yours is easy." Ban grabbed the last costume on the counter - a periwinkle blue balloon-sleeved dress trimmed in black ribbon with a white ruffled pinafore.
Thrusting it into Ginji's arms, he said, "I'm sure you'll make an excellent Alice in Wonderland'."
Ginji stared with uncertainty at the bundle. "Is this the only choice I've got?" His pleading eyes turned to Natsumi, who replied with an apologetic nod.
"Kojio wants to see a little girl, he'll get a little girl."
"But Ban-chan," he held out the frock in front of him and whined. "This looks so tiny. It doesn't even reach to my knees."
"So what? You wear shorts all the time. Same thing."
"No, it's not!" Ginji dissented with a pout. Once again, his partner's twisted sense of logic floored him.
"Well, we'll soon find out, won't we?" Ban sighed heavily. He began heading off to the backroom to get changed.
---
Ginji had his palms against the wall, grimacing.
"Ban-chaaan…It's too tight…" he moaned.
"Keep still!" Ban grunted from behind him. "It'll fit… Just a little bit more…"
"Ow! Don't push so hard!"
"Ugh!" Ban gripped Ginji's shoulder vigorously with his left hand and leaned closer to his back for leverage.
"Yes!"
With a last push, Ban finally pulled the dress zipper up.
Ginji turned and collapsed against the wall, wheezing. "I didn't think it would go all the way."
"Me neither," Ban breathed sharply as he lit a cigarette. "It was kind of stuck. Maybe it would've slid up better with some lubrication?"
Ginji straightened up and pulled on his collar. "Well, this dress is still too small for me." He then fussed with the tulle petticoat of the flouncy skirt. "And this skirt is itchy. And I can't move my arms much, and…"
"Geez! Quit your blathering will you?" Ban fumed. "How do you think I feel? Fortunately for you, you just have to dress like a girl. I not only have to dress like a girl, I have to act and sound like one! So don't think I have it easy!"
He unfurled a roll of toilet paper and began stuffing the sheets into his brassiere (he chose the B-cup, thinking there was no need to go overboard with size. Not that anyone would see his lack of boobs anyway).
"Plus, I have to wear this stupid bra!"
"At least you get to wear your jeans underneath that thing. All I've got are my boxers, and believe me, it's pretty drafty down here." Ginji mourned, then sat down dejectedly.
"Now's not the time to concern yourself with modesty. We're disguised as prostitutes, remember?" Ban reminded pointedly.
Natsumi knocked. "Excuse me. Is everyone decent?"
When the Get Backers didn't answer, Natsumi strode right into the storeroom holding a bunch of wigs and a huge vanity kit. They all stared at one another for a few seconds, and to Ban and Ginji's chagrin, she was holding a hand to her mouth, on the verge of bursting into a fit of giggles.
"That bad, huh?" Ban muttered, exhaling a big cloud of smoke. On the chair, Ginji instinctively closed his legs together and blushed.
Natsumi bit her lip. She didn't quite know how best to respond to an uncomfortable boy wearing a baby doll dress and a proud, unpredictable man wearing a long, black skirt and bra.
It was way too surreal an image for a simple girl like her.
"Er… Honestly? No. Not that bad at all," Natsumi said sincerely. She was fast to recover her bearings. Ban called her a real pro just a few hours ago, and she wasn't about to let him down.
"I don't know what you guys would do without me," Natsumi declared with a laugh. She put down her things and walked up to Ban. "Let me help you with that."
Ban stood stiffly, and with a raised eyebrow, watched Natsumi's earnest face as she deftly and efficiently adjusted the bra straps until they were snug around his shoulders.
She stepped back. "There. That should be more comfortable."
The ashes of Ban's perilously dangling cigarette fell to the floor. "It is. Uh, thanks."
Natsumi felt her heart explode. She couldn't remember the last time he had thanked her properly. Turning to a perturbed Ginji, she took his arm and pulled him off the chair. Mockingly, she scolded. "Don't you know how to dress yourself? Your apron is crooked."
With an almost motherly care, Natsumi silently straightened the pinafore and tied it behind Ginji's back in a neat little bow. Then, with both hands, she smoothed out the folds, ruffles and creases on the dress while he remained perfectly still, until the dress looked almost new.
"Here," she handed him a brand-new pair of striped white knee-hi socks. "Wear these. They'll look nice with your dress and shoes."
"Okay. If you say so, Natsumi-chan." Ginji took the socks and sat back down on the chair to remove his sneakers.
Natsumi eyed him briefly with an understanding look on her face and then returned to the makeup kit on the table. Opening the box with a flourish, she announced,
"So… Who's first?"
---
"If you need me, I'll be in the bathroom finishing up," Ban said with an uncharacteristic embarrassment in his voice. He picked up the dress top and his other accessories. "You sure I don't look like Medusa or someone like that?"
Ginji and Natsumi locked gazes with the now not-so-cocky Get Backer, unable to believe the person in front of them with the heavily made-up eyes and pale complexion was Ban.
"You look fine," Natsumi assured brightly.
"This is ridiculous," he grumbled as he left the room.
"Did I say something wrong?" she wondered out loud.
Ginji shook his head. "I think he wanted us to tell him he looked absolutely gorgeous."
He and Natsumi burst into snickers.
She resumed putting a peach gel blush on Ginji's cheeks with feathery strokes of her fingers. Natsumi could literally feel his nervousness. Instead of a warm wave of current, he emitted prickly impulses that spiked up sporadically as she touched his face.
She then painted on a glossy coral-coloured lipstick on his mouth while he tapped his foot restlessly. "Don't fidget, Gin-chan… Oh shoot…."
A bit of gloss smeared off Ginji's lower lip. Natsumi lightly traced the outline of his lip with her finger to wipe it off. He flinched.
"Eeep!" She yelped. Natsumi whipped off her hand after receiving a small shock.
"I'm so sorry," Ginji apologized, puppy-dog eyes growing wide with equal parts concern and remorse. "For some reason, this job is making me nervous."
"It's because you've never done this before, silly. Dress like a girl, I mean." Natsumi looked thoughtful. "And neither has Ban-san. But not even this will stop the Get Backers from success, right?"
Ginji immediately felt ashamed. He knew he had no right to be so doubtful before such an optimistic, believing young lady.
"Natsumi-chan? Why are you always so nice to us?"
She pulled up her chair so that their knees almost touched.
"The Get Backers once got back something that made me very happy," she smiled angelically. "I, too, want to be a retriever. But this time, I want to help get back something that will make you happy."
Ginji swallowed hard, leaning so far back into his chair that it almost tipped over.
Natsumi placed her hands on the arms of the chair and moved closer. "Something I know you want a lot of…"
Ginji didn't want for much, but, at the moment? Some compulsion inside of him definitely wanted to take what she was offering.
"W-w—want a lot of?"
"Money!" Natsumi clapped her hands.
"I'm helping you get your money back! Ban-san is always complaining about how broke you guys are, and when Kojio offered 180,000 yen, I thought 'Wow. That's a lot of cash. What would the Get Backers do? And so…"
Ginji sat paralyzed and slack-jawed. Despite his hunger, he lit up like a plasma ball.
---
Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Ban stared hard at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing the pale, striking face that stared back. He had to admit he didn't look bad at all. Bewitching, in fact, if he would use a pun.
Natsumi had a good, steady, and creative hand. She used midnight shades to paint the lids of Ban's eyes, lining them in heavy kohl and using false eyelashes to bring out the cold fire in their intense blue colour, making him look other-worldly exotic.
As an added touch, Natsumi drew a snake-like Celtic symbol that curled gracefully from the corner of his left eye, up his brow and down his cheek, adding three tiny rhinestones to accent it. Finally, dark burgundy lipstick highlighted the luminosity of Ban's makeup and drew attention to his fine bone structure.
Ban ruminated whether he could actually hit on a female version of himself. He took a deep breath and put on the long, straight, blue-black coloured wig. Throwing his head back, he adjusted the strands around his shoulders and assessed the damage.
"Damn! I'd definitely do me," Ban said to himself with an extremely affected grin.
Sure, he looked like some refugee from an S&M version of 'The Addams Family', and sure, the figure-hugging dress was strangling him, but he didn't mind at all.
From all angles, Ban swished and twirled and posed. Studying his sleek form in the tight leather jacket and skirt that just swept the floor, he took one last long look in the mirror. He decided he could really pull this stunt off.
Except…
"Wait. No. No, it can't be…" he muttered to himself with deep dread.
Slowly, he took the pointy, black witch's hat that came with the dress and placed it on his head.
Black dress, black hat, black stringy hair. Snake eyes pierced the glass as Ban came to a terrifying realization.
"HOLY SHIT! I fucking look like Akabane in drag!" he screamed.
Ban blasted out of the restroom and blazed a trail down to the Honky Tonk's bar. Paul saw the banshee (1) creature fly towards him and he fearfully backed into the refrigerator.
Ban banged his fists into the counter in a flurry of leather and chains.
"Do I remind you of someone?" He demanded.
Silence.
Paul remained plastered to the fridge. His cigarette fell from his gaping mouth and all that could be heard was the tiny thud of it hitting the floor.
Paul stammered incoherently.
"Shut up!"
"I was shut up, you fool!"
Ban plopped down on the bar seat. If Paul really had eyes behind those dark glasses, he could swear they were popping out of their sockets right now.
He tried to calm down by giving himself a pep talk.
"We're Get Backers. We can do this. We're professionals. One-hundred percent success rate… Almost… Take back what's taken… hehehe…"
Oh boy, he's losing it, Paul fretted while creeping little by little away from the babbling witch-thing in front of him.
"This is so humiliating," Ban wailed. "Look at me! Just look at me…" It was hard not to. "I can't believe we're still going to do this."
"As much as I want to stop you guys from making complete idiots of yourselves, I won't." Paul's hand was unconsciously reaching for one of the bottles on the liquor display.
"Your tab is on the line here. So, what can I say? You go, girl!"
The barkeep scratched his head and cleared his throat uneasily. "Besides, except for that hat and the bondage gear… ahem… you look… okay."
Paul had to admit if that was a real girl there sitting at his bar, he most probably wouldn't say no to it.
Ewww. He felt sick just having thought that.
"Thanks a lot. You're such a big help," Ban scorned sarcastically while lighting up.
Suddenly, his head turned towards the direction of the bathroom. Eyes narrowing – false eyelashes and all – he sighed out a billow of smoke.
"Oi, Paul," he motioned rapidly with his hand. "A shot of that tequila, will you?"
Paul guiltily snatched his hand away from the tequila bottle he had been fondling and stood right in front of it.
"Eh? What tequila? Don't know what you're talking about, hehe."
Ban glowered.
"Oh, all right. But just because you look like you're seriously going to put a curse on me," Paul grumbled loudly as he took the tequila and shot glass. "And may I remind you this is my best and most potent bottle so it's 1,000 yen a pop."
"What? That's crazy!" Ban roared. He then shrugged. "Potent, you say? Fine. Fill 'er up."
Paul filled the glass and slammed it on the counter. "Happy hour starting early for you?"
Ban took a long drag out of his cigarette. "Ginji. He's going to freak right about – "
With bated breath, he let a few seconds pass and exhaled " – now."
---
Illuminated by the soft, warm glow of the fading sunlight pouring in through the storeroom windows, Natsumi stood behind Ginji, carefully brushing the long, blonde hairpiece down his back.
"It's not sliding off, is it?" she asked.
"No. It's fine." Ginji replied softly.
He had calmed down considerably while attentively listening to Natsumi recall how she negotiated and re-negotiated their asking price from Kojio. He found it strange why she usually had that effect on him.
Ginji knew he had a tendency to ramble on inanely and to say the wrong things at the wrong time. But of all his friends, he could rely on Natsumi to hang on to his every uncomplicated word and to meet his naiveté with an understanding smile.
Ginji's life had been full of condescension – stemming from people's fear of his ineffable power or from pity of his inescapable fate.
But here was this high school student who ordinarily should have nothing to do with him, yet would willingly buy him lunch with her scant allowance or risk her safety by helping the Get Backers with a job.
Ginji wondered if Natsumi's devotion was out of sheer indebtedness or if something deeper egged her on.
And then it dawned on him. Lately, he'd been spending down time between jobs not with his partner Ban – who usually sat in a corner fighting the countless demons and ghosts that inhabited his mind – but with Natsumi.
Whether they talked about their mutual love for animals, played a game of shogi together, shared a laugh over the latest manga, or wagered bets on the most trivial things; Ginji began to suspect that maybe, just maybe, Natsumi enjoyed his company simply because he was Amano Ginji.
Not Raitei. Not the Messiah of Mugenjou. Not even because he was one-half of the invincible Get Backers.
Just plain old stupid Ginji.
He likened the time he spent with her at the Honky Tonk to being in a small, fragile bubble – with Ban outside ready to pop him out of it. But in the short time he was inside, Ginji was free of peril, with no need to zap bad guys or have scalpels thrown at him.
Inside was merely peace, comfort and – normalcy. It was a safe, little haven he wished he could expand.
However, Ginji realized Natsumi would soon enter college, starting a new chapter in her life much like he did when he left Mugenjou behind.
She, too, would eventually leave the craziness of the Honky Tonk and abandon the folly of associating with foolish, hapless, out-of-luck Get Backers. And when that day came, Ginji knew…
He would miss her terribly.
"Chin up and let me get a good look at you," Natsumi ordered as she lightly tilted Ginji's head up. She gasped.
"Oh. Oh my… You look – wait, just one more thing." Awe-struck, Natsumi fished around her vanity kit for some black grosgrain ribbon which she then tied around his hair. Pulling back, she scrutinized the results. It took an amount of effort to contain her squeals.
"Gin-chan!" Natsumi clasped her hands and excitedly hopped in place. "You're so pretty!"
Ginji's big brown eyes grew larger as the breeze blew the straight golden strands around his surprised face.
"You look just like a doll!" she gushed, yanking Ginji off the chair. "Wait till Ban-san and Master see you!"
"Natsumi-chan! Don't – Whoa…!
Ginji teetered on the black platform Mary Janes he wore and tried to grab on to something to steady himself.
But Natsumi was playing tug-of-war on his arm and he soon lost his balance. Falling forward, he tackled her.
"Eek!" Natsumi screamed as they landed hard. Fortunately, Ginji had cradled her head in his arms so it didn't hit the floor. Unfortunately, though, he was squarely on top of her.
"Are you okay?" Ginji asked frantically, his face inches away from hers – except, it was covered in a tangle of his blonde and her black hair.
"I'm all right," the tiny voice replied from behind the mass.
Raising his head, Ginji freed one of his hands, moved his hair to one side and brushed Natsumi's locks away from her face.
"Thank goodness," he smiled with relief.
She stared up at him with a deep rose flush on her cheeks and squeaked. "Gin-chan… you're… um… heavy…"
"Oh… right." With much confusion, Ginji squirmed on top of Natsumi and tried to find his feet.
"Er. I don't think I can stand up in these shoes," he whispered apologetically.
"Maybe, if you can kneel first?" She turned her head away in extreme embarrassment.
"Mm." He got on his knees and straddled Natsumi. With his arm still around her, he raised her body along with his. His eyes darted everywhere.
"Okay. Now what?"
They basked silently for a moment in their ludicrous situation. Suddenly, Natsumi erupted in a crescendo of laughter, and soon, Ginji followed suit.
They stopped just as they had started when their eyes engaged in a yearning gaze.
"Promise me, Natsumi-chan, wherever you go, you won't forget to visit the Honky Tonk and treat me to dinner, okay?"
"What do you mean 'wherever I go'? You're talking nonsense again." She playfully knocked him on the shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, Gin-chan… "
"But I promise, anyway." She added softly with a twinkle in her eye. "I always have."
Ginji nodded. And as if by force of his own electromagnetism, he pulled Natsumi closer to him while she pressed a hand on his chest, absorbing more of the invisible, searing sparks that shot through every pore of his body.
The expression on his face was one she had never seen before – serious, determined, manly (even though, ironically, he was currently made up to look like a girl).
Maybe this was the face of the Thunder Emperor that people saw and feared when Ginji was still the ruler of Mugenjou.
Natsumi felt powerless in his possession. It scared and enthralled her at the same time.
Ginji's impulses - physical and emotional – were in a jumble. Whatever will he had was now lost in the short-circuiting synapses that controlled his body. He wasn't sure if he should do what he was about to do, or if it was prudent to do it looking the way he did now…
But those impulses were prevailing and the girl in his arms was in complete surrender. So, with Ginji's hand slowly guiding Natsumi's beautiful face to his, their foreheads touched, their eyes closed, and –
Ban screamed from the bathroom.
"Ban-chan!" Ginji gasped. He quickly pulled away from Natsumi.
It's a sign. This was a mistake. He's angry… He let go of her and clumsily crawled towards the door in a nervous panic.
Ginji knew he had lost control. He felt as though he had turned into Raitei. But that's impossible. This isn't Mugenjou.
Like the Thunder Emperor, Ginji felt the raging surge of power and the blinding loss of self-will. However, unlike his alter-ego, he had been aware of every blissful moment that happened, and the currents that coursed through him bore no anguish whatsoever, but rather, felt – pleasant.
This new side of him was nothing like what he ever experienced before, and it intrigued him greatly.
"Gin-chan… You did nothing wrong," Natsumi said in a near whisper as she sat sprawled on the floor.
Ginji didn't hear her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what came over me," he said with a tinge of guilt in his voice. Using the doorknob to awkwardly pull himself up, Ginji reeled toward the bathroom.
"Ban-chan! I didn't know what I was doing. I –" he stumbled inside, but instead of seeing his partner, he met his own reflection in the mirror. Only he swore it wasn't him.
After a few minutes, Natsumi followed Ginji in and found him with his head half-buried in the sink.
"If I had anything to throw up, I'd be puking right now," he wailed wretchedly. "I look like a girl."
Natsumi cocked her head as she patted him on the back. "I thought that was the point."
Ginji sat on the toilet and bit his nails. "No, I should look like a boy who looks like a girl, not a girl who looks like a girl."
"It's probably the wig," she explained. "I hardly put any makeup on you since you looked – perfect."
Ginji looked down and refused to meet her eyes. Natsumi was doing that thing to him again. If she didn't stop soon, eventually, someday, he wouldn't be able to control himself from doing what he almost did in the storeroom.
"Let's go. Ban-san is waiting for you," she commanded as she pulled him off the toilet. Smiling, she added, "And don't fall on me again."
Whimpering as he went, Ginji tip-toed gingerly down the corridor, creeping close to the wall. He peeked out his head when he reached the corner and saw Paul talking to a black-clad figure with black hair and a black hat. He heard air raid sirens go off in his head.
"Nyaah! Akabane-san!" Ginji cried as he turned chibi and ran back up the corridor towards Natsumi. With his blonde wig and dress he looked like a freaked-out Cabbage Patch doll.
Chibi-Ginji glomped onto Natsumi's leg and crawled up until his head was hidden under her short skirt.
"Eee-yaaah! Gin-chan!" she shrieked.
"A-A-Akabane-san! Why's he here?" he trembled from underneath.
---
"Oh brother," Ban rolled his eyes as he jumped off the bar stool.
An astonished Natsumi watched as the pissed-off Get Backer seemingly floated towards her. If the Grim Reaper was a woman, she'd probably look like Ban right now, was all she could think of.
Ban reached under Natsumi's skirt and pried chibi-Ginji off her leg.
"Ginji! You moron! It's me!" Ban shouted into his face as he held up the tiny, writhing figure by both ears.
"But… But… All black… Hat…"
"Forget the hat!" He tore the hat from his head and shook Ginji until he reverted back to his normal form. "How could you not know it was me?"
"Sorry, Ban-chan. But from the back you really did look like Dr. Jackal."
Ban was grinding his teeth to bits.
Ginji cowered and stood knock-kneed as Ban held him at arm's length. They studied each other from head to toe.
"Heh, Ginji. Kojio's definitely going to love you," Ban approved with a sneaky smirk.
Ginji tugged down at his skirt as if it would help make it longer. "You're so cruel. That's not what I wanted to hear."
"Oi. I just paid you a compliment," Ban made a face.
"I don't care. All I know is, I don't want to go out looking like this."
" – And you think I do?" Ban pushed Ginji toward the bar. "Shit. Let's just get this over with."
The Honky Tonk could've crumbled all around him and Paul still would be staring at that ill-tempered dominatrix witch and that, that tall blonde, baby-faced little girl.
"So, Paul. What do you think of the new Get Backers?" Ban put a hand to his hip while Ginji wobbled pigeon-toed on his platform shoes.
"Don't they look beautiful, Master?" Natsumi squealed.
"Dear Lord Almighty in Heaven… " Paul mumbled, taking a long swig out of his 50,000 yen bottle of tequila. He had vowed only to take a shot on special occasions.
This, however, qualified as an emergency.
There you go. So, I had to include a fluffy GinjixNatsumi piece. I just couldn't resist. Like it? Hate it? Please review. Thanks in advance! See you next chapter!
Next chapter : Ginji and Ban / Midori go clubbing with the freakazoids when they meet a familiar face. Well, actually, not – as a horrified Ban finds out.
(1) This was originally an unintended pun. Really.