Sorry I haven't updated in soooooooo long!!!! *hides from rotten vegetables*

Day Four

Shuichi awoke to a pounding headache, and he frowned as he pulled the covers off his body. He remembered fainting. What happened before that? Shuichi's head began to hurt more as he tried to recollect the events of the previous day. Oh no.

***

Yuki grinned as he tossed the frying pan, causing the pancake to go sailing in the air.

"Whee! Fly! Be free! Okay, enough free time, back in the pan!"

Say it isn't so…

Shuichi stumbled into the kitchen, his eyesight a little blurry, but his hearing perfectly intact. Please tell me he's back to normal…please…I'd give anything!

Glancing up at the noisy intrusion on his cooking fest, Yuki squealed with delight as he saw his younger, pink-haired lover in the entrance of the kitchen.

"Shu-chan! Did you have a nice sleep?"

Shuichi put a hand to his forehead and motioned towards the medicine cabinet. Yuki followed his hand and seemed to understand all too well what Shuichi meant.

"Ah…yes…sorry about that, when I was carrying you to the bedroom after you passed out I dropped you on your head quite a few times. But it was an even number of times, so you haven't gone mad or anything! Now everything's peachy, ne?" he grinned and tossed Shuichi the bottle of painkillers.

"Hai," Shuichi mumbled. "Peachy."

***

The car sped along the motorway, its driver anxiously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and honking the horn at anybody who dared get in front of him and slow his important mission.

Tohma had, a couple of hours ago, received news that a large group of journalists and television reporters were planning a huge interview with Yuki Eiri and Shindou Shuichi. Tohma was genuinely concerned for their welfare; the reporters, that is. If Eiri opened his front door to a mob of people shoving microphones down his throat and flashing cameras in his face, he might not let them any of the live to broadcast the murders of the others.

As a red Nissan swerved in front of him, Tohma thought it time he put his foot down…literally.

***

Yuki was dusting. He was wearing a pink apron and held in his hand a green feather duster.

Shuichi was lying on the sofa, a cushion covering his face and preventing him from seeing the disturbing, although technically rather attractive, situation. Earlier, when Yuki had set down a plate of suspicious, flat, doughy looking things, in front of him, he had been disinclined to eat them. Then he was informed that they were pancakes. This spurred an argument, seeing as Shuichi had never seen English pancakes before, and was more aware of scotch style pancakes.

The doorbell rang. Shuichi growled. If this was anybody bar the men in white coats, he was going to make them wish the thought of calling on him and Yuki had never entered their inconvenient minds. He got up and headed for the door, silently praising whoever it was that had prevented Yuki from hearing the doorbell.

Opening the door, he stumbled back as six reporters thrust microphones in his direction, and the flashing lights of cameras temporarily left him with white spots clouding his vision. As the blood rushed to his head and he clenched his fists, he didn't care to hear the questions being asked, he just screamed.

And screamed…

And screamed.

The herd of people went silent.

"Shu…Shuichi-san? Is something wrong?"

Shuichi glared at the woman.

"Yes something is bloody wrong! My partner has obviously banged his head VERY hard on something and is now acting like…like…me…" Shuichi paused to consider this but shrugged. "And I open my front door to be attacked by YOU jerks! Just…just…LEAVE US ALONE!"

And the crowd was gone.

Shuichi heaved a sigh of relief and picked up one of the cameras that had been dropped in the stampede to leave. Scowling at it he threw it over his shoulder and cringed when he heard a yelp of pain. Turning slowly, he saw what he had expected. Yuki lay sprawled on the floor, a camera just a few inches from his head.

***

"Ne Yuki! I'm sorry! I didn't know you were stood behind me!" Shuichi tried to explain.

"Go away, baka," Yuki grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head and smiling when the room fell silent. He frowned as he heard a soft rustling sound, and then Shuichi's face appeared above his.

"Very sorry?"

Things were, undoubtedly, back to normal.