Honey Trap
A Weiss Kreuz fanfiction by laila

Part 2: It's Different for Girls

The plan's this.

Youji goes in the club the front way and I go with him while Omi enters through the air vents and Aya by the roof. Whilst Omi searches for a computer room and Aya watches his back, Youji and I wait for Ogawa to show. Omi does his stuff in the computer room then goes to cover the exit just in case something goes wrong, which is where Aya leaves him. Aya then heads toward the club proper to wait for Youji's signal. When Ogawa enters I get him alone, off-guard and preferably in a compromising position whilst Youji fills Aya in on where we've got to then blocks the target's escape. Finally, Aya enters the room before Ogawa can compromise me too much, where he kills him. End of story.

Needless to say I'm not going to be making nice with strange men as Ken Hidaka, florist, or even as the assassin Siberian. I've only gone and drawn the metaphorical short straw, as usual, and am going to have to spend the entire damn mission dressed as and pretending to be a girl. There's a hell of a lot hanging on my ability to do this well enough to convince Ogawa. I'm not at all sure I want to do this. Actually, I'd rather slit my wrists than do this but as Aya oh-so-charmingly puts it I've already accepted the mission.

Omi thinks it sounds simple. I don't but everyone stopped listening to me ages ago.

Of course, because I'm the kind of guy who hates being kept in the dark about how things are going, the Gods or Fate or some other twisted deity have decided that I'm going to spend practically the entire mission without a single bloody clue as to how it's going, or even if it's going at all.

Sometimes I think I really hate my life, too.

Manx looks at me curiously. Then she turns and looks over at Aya skeptically. Then she looks back at me over her shoulder, plainly incredulous.

"Siberian?" She says finally.
"Him." Youji says, and smiles broadly, aiming it solely at Manx. "Yeah."
She looks doubtfully at me again as if she's never seen me before and can't quite work out why I'm here, then she pinches the bridge of her nose, like she's getting a tension headache. I can't say I blame her. "O-kay. Let me see if I've got this straight. You want to be certain of finding the target alone, without his bodyguards, and the only time that happens is when he's in Club Verde with a woman. So to that end Siberian is going to pose as a woman and lure him into one of the back rooms where Abyssinian and Balinese take him down." She's been thrown, I can tell by her voice. "Are you boys quite sure about this?"
"No, I'm not!" I say angrily, only to get glared into silence by Aya.
"Perfectly." He says coldly, giving me a look that screams and if you say so much as another word, Ken Hidaka, I'm going to kill you slowly and painfully. I get the picture and decide to shut up before I talk myself into an early grave.
Omi nods, his eyes wide and serious. At least he isn't laughing. Perhaps because he knows if he wasn't running comm they'd be doing this to him. Youji winks at her, pushing his hair back from his face. "Yeah, we're sure."
Omi giggles anxiously. "We've discussed it, Manx-san. Siberian's… not exactly happy with it, but he's the best choice."
"Yeah, like hell you discussed it…" I mutter darkly. Well, there goes my resolution to keep quiet but fuck it, this is too much. Maybe they discussed it with each other but they damn sure didn't run it by me first!

Manx looks at me again, her brows furrowing thoughtfully. I have absolutely no idea what she's thinking, but going by the slight smile on her face she wants to laugh. I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted by that expression. On the one hand I don't like the idea she's laughing at me, but on the other I wouldn't want someone to think it'd be an easy job to make me look like a woman. Unsure what to do with myself, I settle for looking at the wall and folding my arms. Manx raises one hand to her mouth, hiding a smile.

"Is that why you called me down?" She asks finally.
"That's it." Youji replies, smiling lasciviously at her. "We thought it'd be a good idea to get the opinion of a genuine woman." I wonder if she minds him talking to her cleavage. God, Youji's a pervert. He's so transparent we could use him to glaze a window.
Manx nods briskly, red curls bouncing. Don't they get in her face a lot? "That wasn't a bad idea. You do realize," she says to the room at large, "that putting Siberian in a dress and trusting he'll know what to do from there won't fool anybody? It'll take considerably more than that to make him into a convincing female." She suppresses another smile as if she can't quite believe what we're talking about. Well, I can't either. You think you've got problems buying this crap, Manx? Well, try sitting where I am!
"That's exactly why we thought we'd get your advice." Aya says far too calmly.

It's a damn good thing Aya and Youji don't know how pissed off I am with them at the moment. They're taking this way too coolly for my liking, Aya in particular. It's like he can't even imagine why I don't want to do this. Can't he project a little and imagine how he'd feel if I was insisting he played the whore for the sake of killing some middle-aged psycho? I look angrily at him for a moment, then turn to the grinning Youji. I decide this is all his fault. He's really going to be for it just as soon as Manx leaves.

"It's going to take more than advice, I'm sorry to say." Manx replies, not sounding sorry at all.
"See?" I say to the others. "I told you this was a bloody stupid idea."
She glances over at me disdainfully. "You'll have to do something about that, for a start."
"That?" I blink.
"The way you talk." Manx elaborates, folding her own arms and looking down at me meditatively. The look in her eyes is almost enough to have me bolting for the stairs. "And the way you sit, the way you move… Abyssinian, are you absolutely sure you want Siberian to do this?" She motions toward me with one upturned hand, inviting him to take a look at me. It's a surprisingly eloquent gesture.
"We don't have any choice." Aya says, implying he's got no more confidence in me than Manx has. They're not alone but right now I'm damned if I'm going to admit it. Weirdly I'm almost feeling insulted, though not so insulted that I want to prove them wrong, mind.
I give him the foulest look I can manage on a moment's notice. "Wow, thanks."
She blinks, then she sighs, shaking her head. "Well, since it's for tonight's mission and you seem to be serious about this, I'll see what I can do. I'm going to borrow Siberian for the day but I'll see that he's back before you get going, don't worry." And she turns and makes for the staircase.
"What?" I can't believe I heard her right.
Youji raises his eyebrows and gives me a supposedly playful glower with way too much sincerity behind it. "Whew, lucky! I'd gladly dress up as a chick if I got some time alone with Manx out of it!"
"No you damn well wouldn't." I reply.
Manx is already halfway to the stairs but she stops and turns, looking over her shoulder at me. She frowns slightly when she notices I haven't immediately sprung to my feet and run after her, like I couldn't wait to find out how she intended to make a woman out of me. "Come on, Siberian," she says coolly.

You can't argue with that tone of voice, or at least I can't. Matter closed, I guess…

Sighing and muttering a collection of interesting curses I've been saving for a situation of dire provocation, I get to my feet. The idea of dressing up like a girl's bad enough without it turning into some production number, so I'm not best pleased by Manx hinting at there being considerably more in store for me than having to wear girls' clothes if I want to make an even halfway believable female. Which I don't, by the way, but it seems like it's going to happen regardless of how I feel about it. I tell myself this is all for the mission and reluctantly join Manx by the stairs. I wonder how far I'd get if I tried to make a run for it. Probably I wouldn't even make it out the door.

Right on cue, Youji grins at me. "Go get 'em, Tiger."

I decide I'm going to hide his lighter when I get back.

It's dusk. The schoolgirls, by now, will have pretty much gone home. The occasional one or two, without the curfews or paranoid parents I normally expect the lot of them to have simply by virtue of being young and female, might still be hanging round the place but that's not a definite. It means less people to see me and I offer a fervent prayer of thanks to any God that might be listening as I try to psych myself up to get out of Manx's car. I wonder if I hate Manx as much as I do Youji and Aya, or if I hate her more. I decide I definitely hate her more. I feel stupid.

I know I can't hide in here forever and I don't much care. I want to hide in here forever, goddammit! Preferably beneath the seats, or maybe even in the trunk. I like it in here. Nobody can see me in here. There's no Youji. It's safe.

"Come on, Siberian." Manx says impatiently. She's tapping her foot. "Nobody's going to recognize you and I don't have all night." She's obviously been taking glaring lessons from Aya because she's got that you will do exactly as I say or I will show you what pain really means look he's so good at on her face as well. God, Manx scares me sometimes. It's almost hard for me to believe that she's actually talking to me. I don't feel at all like Siberian at the moment so I'm surprised when I respond.
"They'd better not recognize me." I mutter.
Manx clicks her tongue and sighs. "And at least try to talk like a woman, please."
"Sorry." I say shortly and, I guess, with very bad grace.

Whoever knew getting out of a car could be so nerve-wracking? It seems to take all the willpower I've got to open the damn door, and considerably more than I'd ever suspected I might possess to climb out of the car and close it behind me without succumbing to the temptation of diving back inside and refusing to come out until Manx promises me that the street is empty, there is absolutely nobody in the shop and, whilst I'm wishing for things that'll never happen, that Youji's gone inexplicably missing and everybody else in the world has suddenly been struck blind, like in that old movie about the man-eating plants.

I'd quite like to be struck blind, too. It would save me from catching sight of my reflection in the windows of the shop and staring at it in complete disbelief for a moment or two. I've seen what Manx has done to me once or twice before but all the same it's hellishly unsettling to be confronted with it when I'm just trying to walk down the road. I know what I expect to see when I look in the mirror and it double damn sure isn't this. The long red dress with the Mandarin collar and, God help me, like I wasn't embarrassed enough already, a split skirt would be bad enough but that isn't the half of it. Oh, no. There's the high-heeled shoes and the evening bag - both also in red, incidentally -and the gloves and the hose to contend with. And the bobbed black wig with its stupid complimentary red hair grips. And lastly there's the make-up. Who is this person?

Somewhere under all this I'm still Ken Hidaka but I really can't see it right now. It's freaky.

Honestly, I'd rather look stupid. I'd rather look like, as Youji put it, a stag night that's gotten out of hand than this. I don't look like a guy playing dress-up. I look like a tall, slender, utterly pissed-off girl and that's just so wrong I don't know what to make of it. I'm kind of worried.

I stare at myself in silent shock until Manx catches me by the elbow and drags me into the store. I stumble after her, with stumble being the only way to describe it. I hate these shoes already. I'd better not need to run anywhere tonight. It's no wonder it's always girls who die in slasher films. They can't get away from the serial killer fast enough because of their goddamn stupid shoes. Manx said the thing about high heels, basically, is everyone walks elegantly in them and nobody can help but look gracefully ladylike when wearing them. I wonder if I've disabused her of this crazy idea graphically enough yet or if I need to trip over again.

Youji's either going to laugh until he chokes or try and hit on me and I'm not sure what would be worse.

"I'm afraid we're just closing." Omi says automatically. Then he says, "Oh my God."

The look on his face, though it's aimed at me, is so priceless that just for a moment I wish I had a camera. Of course I don't look any better at the moment but at times like this I've got to take my humor where I find it. Manx, on the other hand, looks about thirty times more smug than I ever imagined she could manage. I'd like to kick her but she's done quite enough to me already without me provoking her. It's safe to say that, with things being how they are, I really don't want to know what she'd do if I ever pissed her off.

"Hi." I say weakly. I wish Manx was bigger so I could hide behind her.
Omi's still staring at me. "Ken-kun?"
"It's that bad?" I wish I didn't sound so plaintive.
"That's not it!" He says hastily, perhaps because Manx is still hovering by the counter looking calm, purposeful and as if she'll scratch the eyes out of anyone who suggests red isn't my color. With her calling the shots I wasn't even surprised to end up in red. "I didn't recognize you… I guess that means it works, right? It's a good disguise. Good evening, Manx-san!" He turns to her and smiles like he's complimenting her on her work. I look down at the bag I'm carrying and wonder how much damage I'd do if I were to smack Omi over the head with it.

Then Youji shows up, dressed up in that suit he wears when he wants to look smart for his dates and smoothing his hair, but he stops short in the doorway and blinks like he was trying to get his brain activated. He looks at me first, then over at Manx and finally, a disgustingly curious look on his face, at Omi. I'd guess he finds whatever answer he was looking for in Omi's flatly sadistic smile, because this grin spreads slowly across his face as he looks back at me, doing this sort of up-and-down-and-up-again sweep of the eyes which doesn't quite finish back at my face. By the time he's done staring, his grin's gotten so broad it looks like the top of his head's about to come off.

It also looks like he's checking me out. He knows I'm a guy beneath all this stupid stuff Manx forced me into and he's checking me out! For a moment I'm too shocked even to think of an appropriate curse and I feel myself start to blush. Fuck.

"Ken." Youji says, gesturing to me with his cigarette. "Right?"
Omi nods and grins. "Yes, that's Ken-kun."
I fold my arms and glare at him. "And you couldn't have asked me that because?"
"Definitely Ken." Youji says casually. "Gotta tell you, Manx, you've done pretty well."
Manx raises one eyebrow and condescends to look in my direction. "Unfortunately, Siberian can't quite seem to get the hang of feminine speech."
"Won't be a problem, Manx." Youji says slickly. "I don't think Ogawa's gonna be interested in his conversation. You should've got him a blonde wig."
I'm about to reply that I'd have looked goddamn stupid as a blonde, not that I look much less goddamn stupid as it is, but Manx gets in first. "It wouldn't have worked with his complexion."
"I'm still here, guys." I point out. "You can still talk to me and put your eyes back in your head while you're at it, Kudou!" How Manx stands Youji addressing remarks to her cleavage without wanting to run riot with Aya's katana I don't know. Grabbing a sword and chasing Youji with it whilst screaming 'die' at the top of my lungs never seemed so attractive.
Youji smirks. "I'm just paying tribute to your powers of disguise, Kenken."
"You mean you're a pervert!"
Omi's looking between the two of us like we were playing championship tennis, not about to start throwing stuff at each other, and he's stifling a fit of giggles, but what he actually says is, "Not in the shop, please guys?"
"I'll leave you boys to it, I think." Manx says with a small chuckle. "Siberian, please try and remember to talk like a woman and when you sit down, cross your legs. Okay?"
"Whatever." I say shortly, glancing at her over my shoulder as she heads for the door.

For all my attempts to stay cool, I desperately wish she wasn't going. At least when there's a third party here I know Youji can't try anything too stupid. Needless to say I'm not looking forward to driving to the club with the pervert, though I'm rather less worried about that than I am about the rest of this mission. Someone, I decide, is going to have to pay for this and since I'm not going to get to lay a finger on that bastard Ogawa unless things go really wrong, that leaves me with a straightforward choice between Aya and Youji.

It's definitely Youji. By the time the guy finally deigns to show up I've told Youji to fuck off four times and been reminded that young ladies don't use such vulgar language three times. I'm in the process of informing Youji that I am not now, never have been and never will be a young lady and to Hell with this ridiculous bloody mission and if he doesn't stop laughing he's going to fucking die when Aya steps into the room. Aya raises his eyebrows once when he catches sight of me but aside from that he barely even seems to notice that I'm wearing some stupid dress rather than jeans and a jacket the way I normally do. That's Aya for you, I guess. I'm glad for it, but at the same time it's a bit weird.

Still, when he suggests that since both Youji and I are ready we might as well make a move, Aya sees himself catching up with Youji in the stakes for who I'd most like to gut. By the time he warns us, correction, warns me about keeping cool around Ogawa and how important it is that the target doesn't suspect there's anything amiss, they're on evens. I've done missions before. It's not like putting a dress on's magically lowered my IQ by thirty points, is it?

"Behave yourself, Youji-kun," Omi says with a grin as I reluctantly follow the lanky blonde to the door.
"Don't worry about us, Omi." Youji says languidly. "Have you ever known me to be any less than a gentleman to any of my dates?"
"You do realize, Youji," I say stiffly, "that any judge in the country would consider this grounds for justifiable homicide?"
Youji looks down at me in well-acted surprise, a look of mock outrage pasted across his face. That is, I hope it's only mock outrage. "Ah, don't be like that! Women love me."
"Look, I'm not a bloody girl, okay?" I point out for the fiftieth time.
"Could have fooled me, Kenken." He says with a chuckle. "You certainly look like one. Now come on, sweetheart. We're going to be late."

He casually drapes one arm across my shoulders. Casually I shrug it off. Omi claps one hand over his mouth and tries to pretend he's not about to burst out laughing, probably because he knows I'd try and strangle him if he did. I have no idea what that little idiot found so funny about me not wanting to get pawed by Youji and I'm not going to ask. Some things you just don't want to know.

It's not until we're halfway to the club, a journey which I've mostly spent with my hands to my head because I'm worried about losing the wig never mind the several dozen hairpins securing it to my own hair, that I realize I'm missing something very important. I'm not armed. Not at all. I'm going to be making nice with a dangerous, not to mention paranoid target with the intention of getting him alone, and I don't have anything remotely resembling a weapon to back me up in case something goes wrong. I don't even have a can of Mace.

I also realize I'm going to die. What's worse, I'm going to do it in a red Chinese dress and high heeled shoes.

"Problem?" Youji asks, briefly taking his eyes off the road to glance over at me.
"I'm not armed." I say nervously. "What happens if something goes wrong?"
"It's not going to." Youji says automatically. I guess I must look either unconvinced or just plain worried, though, because he relents. "It won't get that far. You get him by himself, I'll call Aya and that'll be it. You'll be alone with him for five minutes, tops. Even unarmed you can handle that. If all else fails, grab a vase and knock the guy senseless. You're good at that." He gives me a strange look and I can guess what he's talking about.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." I look down at my feet. They don't look like my feet. They look more like Manx's. What was that crap Youji said once about the character of a woman being in her ankles or somesuch? I wonder if you can do the same with guys. "Hey, Youji? What're we gonna do if he doesn't go for it?"
"He'll go for it." Youji says confidently. "Trust me, the last thing anyone'll take you for is an assassin and a male one at that."

If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn't work. I go back to staring fixedly at this black car a few feet ahead of us and worrying about this stupid wig. It beats worrying about the mission and trying to talk to Youji. I guess there's nothing for me to do but trust the others will come through all right. Normally I'd have no problems with that but right now it's rather a different matter. I'd deny it if anyone asked me, but I'm having serious second thoughts about whether or not I should be going through with this. Second thoughts, cold feet, first-night nerves, the doubts - call them what you will, I've got them.

Okay, I'll admit it: I'm feeling kind of scared.

It doesn't help when it suddenly occurs to me that using the girls in the shop in general and Yuriko in particular as a reference for how girls behave isn't going to get me anywhere. Yuriko wasn't the kind of girl who went to clubs and I can't really say she flirted with me or anything, we just kind of talked to each other and that was it. While the girls in the shop may be both those things I only ever see them when they're squealing and clinging to Aya like he was some kind of bad-tempered teddy bear. Simply, I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing. I wish Manx's attempt to teach me girl things had concentrated less on how to talk like a girl and more on what kind of things girls say to guys they're flirting with, because I still haven't got the hang of female speech patterns and I don't know what it is I'm supposed to be telling Ogawa either.

"Um, Youji!" I ask, turning to look at him again. "What do I do if he does go for it?"
"You'll think of something." Youji says.
I laugh nervously. "And if I don't?"
"You're really worried, aren't you?" Youji says in surprise, glancing over at me again.
What starts out in my head as Hell no, I'm not worried somehow comes out as "Wouldn't you be?"
He sighs. "Look, I wasn't going to tell you this but Omi found something out about Ogawa. He prefers it when the girl's kind of… innocent. He won't care if you don't know what you're doing. He'll probably prefer it."
I look at Youji blankly for a moment or two, wondering if he really said what I thought he did, then I panic. "I'll walk back, okay?" I say, going for my seatbelt.
"Will you cool it, Ken? Nothing's going to happen to you." Youji says firmly. "Calm down."
I smile nervily at him and I bet it looks weird as hell. "Okay, whatever…"

Now I'm really feeling scared. I want to go home and hide under the bed, or at the very least replace these stupid lace gloves with my bugnuks.

After dropping that bombshell on me, Youji decides from my stunned silence that he'd better lighten the mood a bit. Being the complete dumbass that he is, he decides the absolute best way to do this is to make constant off-color remarks about the efficiency of my disguise and how my legs measure up with those of his million and one girlfriends. This begins to pall after about thirty seconds, from my point of view, but going by the way Youji's going on I'm convinced that blonde flake thinks he's mining a rich comic vein. Needless to say he isn't. He's just pissing me off severely and making me fantasize about forcing him to eat my wig, then beating him senseless.

I'll admit that it does lighten the mood somewhat, though. Instead of worrying about exactly how Ogawa's gonna murder me, I'm now trying to work out how I'm going to kill Youji when we get home. The rest of the journey consists of me sitting there in stony silence whilst Youji keeps up a constant monologue about how he'd hit on me if he met me in a club and didn't know me. After about the nine hundredth comment about what he'd like to do if I really was a girl I lose what's left of my patience, haul off and smack him over the head only to get told that ladies don't do things like that.

Oh, Youji's a dead man.