Paved with Good Intentions
by surefall and aishuu
Disclaimer: Based on Prince of Tennis, by Konomi.
Notes: Crack fic at its most devilish. Let's take the horrid cliche of making the boys angels and devils and pump it full of semi-plotful sugar. Stir well.
Part 7 Summary: In Which overdue books are discussed.

There is one place in Heaven that is open to all comers, be they angels or devils. In that place, the metaphysical equivalent of sunlight shines through tall windows, velvet muffles the floors, books fill shelves that run from floor to high ceilings and stretch in every direction into the nearly infinite distance. It also happens to be pretty empty. It would seem, that despite the Hall of Records and History being The Library, the laws of libraries apply. Workers in the back, bookworms between the shelves, and everybody else avoids it like humans avoid the plague. Knowledge? Learning? Who needs that?!

Few people realized its true power. Scientia est potentia. For those few, they had to deal with the keeper of the keys, one Yanagi Renji, the one angel whom had been personally appointed to keep a watch over exactly what was going on. It was how he and Inui had become... well, not friends, but colleagues.

It was a given that if someone was seeking Yanagi, he would be in The Library. Rumor had it he didn't sleep, but that wouldn't be true. The truth was no one noticed him sleeping since he'd perfected the fine art of sleeping upright, and if his eyes were closed as he snoozed, it made no difference since no one ever saw him with his eyelids open anyway.

The purpose of Inui's visit to The Library did not actually have anything to do with Yanagi per se. Today, it was all about the research. Considering the events that his spy eyes informed him were beginning to unfold, it was high time he consulted The Library's history to gain an accurate portrait of all the beings involved. And if he happened to run across Yanagi ... well ... all the better.

The moment Inui set foot in the library, Yanagi looked up. The alarms he triggered to go off at a frequency only he could hear (since he'd been fitted with a special device because of said alarms) shrilled their warning that Inui was on the premises. Even though he usually let Inui go about his own business, Yanagi made it his business to keep track of what the data demon was up to. By tracking what Inui was researching, he'd found it made it easier to gain a drop on him - though often times Inui would plant misleading trails, and... well, it was a huge headgame. Yanagi rather enjoyed it. Inui was one of the few creatures as smart as he was.

Inui slipped between the shelves, admiring the comfortable plush beneath his feet and subdued lighting in spite of himself. The house of knowledge, no matter its holy attachments, was still a thing of admiration. He hadn't caught sight of Yanagi yet when he turned to the shelves and snapped his fingers.

The shelves ground into motion with a rattle and a hiss, sliding along metaphysical grooves to whip past him, stirring the lazy air with the smell of books and speed. As they slowed to a stop, Inui peered into the segment and nodded amicably to himself, reaching out to pluck volume 25,456,342 out of its place so he could flip through it. This one should be close to Tezuka versus Fuji round one. He would need something earlier than that, but this would give him a good place marker.

The whistles Yanagi heard, a faint ringing rather like tinnitus, turned into a shriek that made his brain threaten to pop out of his skull like a piece of bubble gum treated to a sudden influx of air. It was all he could do not to slam his hands to the side of his head and cover his ears for some futile relief. Instead, he forced himself to his feet, deciding that he'd have to try to distract Inui. There was a confidentiality policy in place when the events of the past could influence the events of the future. He didn't know what Inui was looking for exactly, but whatever it was, it boded no good.

Of course it didn't. Inui was demon, he wouldn't be up to anything good. Opening the book, he skimmed down the first couple lines, "Year 1105 -- " Too late. He would have to go farther back. Inui replaced the book and snapped his fingers again, setting the shelves to running on their braces once more.

Yanagi deftly grabbed the brace for the shelf which contained volume 23,367,898 and hopped on top of it, hitching a ride. The eight-foot vantage point was blessedly out of Inui's line of sight, but as the shelf slid to a stop in front of his nemesis, Yanagi couldn't resist tweaking his rival. "Can I help you find something?" he asked in the most polite of tones.

Inui glanced up only briefly in acknowledgement before returning his attention to the shelf, running his fingers along the spines in search of a likely starting point. His fingers skipped a space and he paused, "Actually, yes, you can. Where's volume 22,400,765?"

"Missing."

"How can there be a volume missing in History?"

"It's before I took over as librarian. There's no records missing since my tenure started," Yanagi said defensively.

Inui adjusted his glasses in a manner that managed to imply that it was all Yanagi's fault, "I am sure ... but how did they go missing in the first place?"

"It's Hell's fault," Yanagi said, looking disgruntled. The bookworm in him was seriously annoyed at the incomplete collection. "It goes back to the last heavenly wars - demons invaded The Library, and a bunch of volumes went missing - usually the pivotal ones."

"Now why would Hell steal mostly pivotal volumes of History?" Inui frowned. It wasn't that demons were all thieves that was getting his brain jumping, he expected that, "That implies an intent."

"It could have been your usual jealousy. Back then, Hell wasn't allowed access to The Library." Yanagi lifted an eyebrow. "What would you have done?"

"Led a raid to take as many volumes as we could get our hands on."

"The problem lies in the fact that since you do have access now, it's a moot point. It would be appreciated if they were returned. I won't even charge you overdue fees." Yanagi gave a faint smile.

"I would be most happy to do the Librarian a favor of that magnitude ... but we do not have the missing volumes."

Yanagi sighed and looked disgusted. "You probably do, buried somewhere in some minor demon's attic, but no one's alive who remembers where they hid them. Everyone pretty much got wiped out due to that mess."

"It was ... unfortunate." It was a disaster. Everything had been going so well before that, too. God was pissed of at the Earth, the Earth was ignoring God, rain was coming down from Heaven, the Apocalypse was so close ... and then they lost.

"Indeed. But there's always a rainbow. Fuji managed to negotiate you access, after all," Yanagi said sweetly.

Damn rainbows. "This is true, though I would have assumed he would have returned all the missing volumes to you. Unless of course, he forgot."

"He did return the volumes which ended up in his possession - he was bound by a blood promise to," Yanagi said. "Even Fuji's not going to cheat on a blood promise to God over a few books."

Then it was time to search a few forgotten attics in search of the missing volumes. No one said he couldn't read them before returning them, after all. Inui nodded shortly, "This is so. I will make a search for your missing volumes, Renji. We can call it a favor."

"Only if you return them," Yanagi replied. "What are you after specifically, anyway? I might know something about it." Quite true. People tended to tell him things which his eidetic memory never forgot. All told, he was probably the largest font of gossip in the universe.

"In what way Sengoku and Kirihara relate to the current situation. Everyone else makes sense as far as I can determine."

"From what I can tell, there's nothing particularly special about this situation. We're cyclical. Demons rise and fall, but the angels falling out of grace and being redeemed match it. It's really very balanced," Yanagi said. "Sengoku has always been a periphereal player - he likes to be on the edge of the action, but never really involved. Kirihara is merely his newest amusement."

"This confrontation may end up tipping that balance."

"It'll get tipped back," Yanagi said fatalistically. "I don't think we're at Doomsday yet - it hasn't appeared on my calendar, at least." He pulled his planner out of nowhere, and flipped through. "I am concerned about Fuji managing to tempt Tezuka, but with Echizen Nanjirou gone, there's room for a new lord in Hell. Sanada would be named the fourth archangel, and the system would continue."

Inui's notebook snapped open in an instant. Common demonic thought (Hell, common demonic teaching!) held that the four were Tezuka, Atobe, Yukimura, and Sanada. If Sanada was not the fourth archangel then that meant that someone else was. "Sanada's the angel of justice ... not the archangel. How did we miss that?" he murmured, more to himself, plugging in serial numbers left and right in search of the fourth. Someone old ...

Yanagi could not believe he'd made that slip. The slight ringing he was still hearing (which wouldn't go away to Inui was safely out of the library and away from the prevcous books) must have been too distracting. "Don't you ever talk to Fuji?" he asked superiorly. "He knows who the archangels are."

"You know as well as I that Fuji does not reveal information of that magnitude and has in fact, been perpetuating the general knowledge that Sanada is an archangel." Running out of likely candidates, Inui set the rest of the angelic registry into automatic plug-in and waited patiently for it to complete.

Yanagi shrugged. It'd been something heaven hadn't discouraged - considering who the fourth was. It was... downright embarrassing.

The notebook pinged and Inui checked the equation. Then double-checked. Then stared. "You have got to be kidding me."

Yanagi knew that only one result had popped, and decided to concede the inevitable. "I wish."

"How did Sengoku become an archangel?!" Inui demanded, waving the notebook in disbelief.

"I think you can thank it to seniority. He's old, and if you hang around long enough, you just keep getting promoted. Eventually there was no one older than he was and he got the slot." Yanagi looked down at his feet, which hung around Inui's head.

Inui sighed, "I thought Yukimura was eldest in heaven."

"We think Yukimura is the oldest. We're not quite sure. They're pretty quiet about it - all we know is Tezuka is the youngest of them, and Atobe's not much older than he is."

"This adds a completely different angle to our current situation," Inui mused, reaching up to yank on Yanagi's leg in an attempt to dislodge him.

Yanagi deftly avoided it, managing to kick Inui in the shoulder as he swung his legs to safety on top of the shelf. "Not really. Sengoku hasn't changed - it's merely your perception of him that has."

"Merely in the fact that we have been underestimating an angelic representative," Inui winced at the kick and stepped back, "Not to mention the fact that if Heaven managed to keep this a secret ... how many other things are you keeping quietly in the dark?"

"Inui, my esteemed colleague, weren't you ever told that Heaven is the light?"

"Hidden then, in plain sight."

"It's only because people don't choose to see. You can be blinded by the light."

"It's rather lucky that I'm not surrounded by its blinding presence."

Being around a stressed-out Yagyuu was fascinating and at the same time repulsive. For the past week or so, Yagyuu had been helplessly watching expenses skyrocket, and Niou had been stuck with him, unable to go Up There, since their Lord and Master already had dibs on the surface world.

Yagyuu was not stressed out (something he told Niou repeatedly), he was simply irritated by the fact that Fuji had decided to spend that much money on an expensive love hotel, all of which Fuji had neglected to tell him about before he left so he could work it into the budget in a proper and useful fashion by cutting Hellish Gardening by fifty percent for the next fiscal quarter.

Okay, so he was stressed out. Where were they going to get the money for this?! Projects would have the be hacked! Funds would have to be cut! Oh, wait, he could suck some money from Ryoma. Not like that one would need it since he was staying at the temple for free.

Niou was the one bearing the brunt of Yagyuu's ire. Yagyuu, who admittedly was something of a sex addict (something which Niou repeatedly thanked his lucky horns for), had actually turned him down twice. The pacing thing he could deal with, but Yagyuu was starting to mutter figures in his sleep, never a good sign.

It probably wouldn't have been so bad if Niou wasn't so wound up himself, but the restructuring which had seemed like such a fun idea... wasn't. Inui seemed to be preoccupied with something, and Dan was next to useless, which left the weight of the workload on his own sexy shoulders. While Niou was never against work - most of his plans were elaborate contraptions - he was against drudgery. Well, when he was the drudge.

Yagyuu tallied up the account books again (which happened to be scattered across Niou's office by this point, getting intertangled with the paperwork that restructuring always managed to acquire), this time skimming money off of Kirihara's account as well, and still came up with far less than he would need to cover the year's expenses. He slammed the book shut with a glare, almost scowling at Niou, "I would be better off in Heaven."

Niou felt the part of him which would have been his heart faltered. He could not believe things were that bad. "Hiroshi, maybe you should take a vacation."

"Where the fucking clouds are lined with fucking gold," Yagyuu muttered in the general direction of the latest accounting book. He paused, engaging in a oh so pleasant daydream of sending a task force to go and rip some of that gold out to boost Hell's finances.

Niou sighed, feeling his own tension headache threaten to get away from him. "You do realize that nothing horrible will happen if the books aren't balanced. Remember deficit spending?" He grinned. "I seem to recall you subtly influencing a few countries...."

"Which would work fine, Masaharu, if we didn't happen to be living with the demons who we'll be owing. Not to mention angels."

"Borrow it from Fuji's account. He's richer than sin, and he's the one spending it in the first place." Niou shrugged. "He'll only torture you for a couple of years for it, worst case scenario. Most likely he'd find it funny."

Yagyuu adjusted his glasses. The idea was frightfully appealing ... if if weren't for the part were he dreaded what Fuji might come up with in terms of punishment, "Some of us aren't that bold."

"There is one other solution," Niou said.

"I'm listening."

"Remember that spam scan I had Touji set up?"

"Yes ... "

"Check his bank account."

Yagyuu summoned the necessary book to his hand and flipped to the appropriate page, "You have got to be shitting me." He didn't knock on a good thing though, he just calmly tapped into it and sucked out the cash he needed.

Niou grinned wickedly. "It's just too bad he did that under direct order on office hours, isn't it?"

"Oh yes" Now that Hell's little financial difficulty has been cleared up, Yagyuu was in a very good mood. He closed the book up after making a few minor adjustments to the relevant accounting columns after redistributing the cash and stood, walking over to sit on the arm of Niou's chair. "Have I ever told you how brilliant you are?" Oh yeah, no question that Niou would be getting a blowjob in about 3.5 seconds.

And since it was such a sure thing, the moment Yagyuu was in midmotion to his knees, the door slammed open and Gakuto stormed inside. Yagyuu straightened and adjusted his glasses in annoyance as the demon of pride snapped out with, "Why are you cutting me from Devilish Resources!?"

"It's corporate restructuring," Niou said smoothly. "We've decided that your workload could easily be handled by Jirou, which frees you up for some more challenging tasks."

Manicured hands went to narrow hips as Gakuto Mukahi stared at Niou, "Oh? And what might those be?"

"We need someone to lead orientation." This time the points of Niou's teeth were definately showing. "You have such a gift with people, I thought you'd be ideal to handle the new arrivals."

If Gakuto could have dropped Niou with a glare, Niou would be dead and twitching like a cockroach on the floor. "You had better be joking."

"Would I joke about such a serious career decision?" Niou gave a smile that resembled a cat who had just stolen three bowls of cream.

"In a hot hellish minute," Gakuto scowled, but realized that there wasn't much he could do about it even if was true. Didn't mean he couldn't complain, though!

Niou laughed, opening his mouth to poke at the redhead again, when the door to his office slammed open again (well, the metaphysical door, but since the concept of hell has already been mentioned, it isn't worth discussing).

Yagyuu adjusted his glasses. "Aren't you supposed to be on Earth, Kirihara?" he asked blandly, idly wondering if the younger demon had realized his account had been cut and rather hoping he had.

Kirihara was in horrible shape. His eyes were slightly dilated, and he was breathing like he'd run the entire way down the infamous hellish stairs, instead of doing the sensible thing and teleporting.

Niou recognized, being the perceptive demon that he was, that something had gone wrong. "Hiroshi," he hissed, warning his lover off. "Kirihara, what happened? Are you considering defecting?"

Niou couldn't be blamed for thinking that, really. Kirihara did look like his entire world had been turned upside down, like he'd just had a revelation. Niou's question, though, snapped him out of it, though. "Of course not!" he growled. "Why would I do a stupid thing like that?"

Gakuto tossed his hair, absurdly pleased that someone else was having a hellish day. "Because you're a pansy?"

"I'm not the one who dyes my hair!" Kirihara snapped back.

"I do not dye me hair!!"

"There's no way that's natural. I've seen you in the shower."

"All that does is make you a voyeur," Gakuto turned and posed, "But who can blame you?"

"Blackmail, Gakuto. I told Kikumaru I'd send your picture to Oishi if he didn't... well, it's not any of your business." Kirihara smirked, relaxing.

Sparring with Gakuto seemed to be calming down their little prodigy, even as it riled Gakuto up even more. The merest mention of Kikumaru was enough to send Gakuto through the roof, and Kirihara's hinting that he'd actually done something which Gakuto didn't know made it 100 times worse.

It was simply not to be bourne, not on top of the joke Niou had made out of his job. Gakuto made a flying leap for Kirihara, hands extended to claw, "Why you little brat!"

Gakuto was quick, but Kirihara was meaner. Niou watched with vague amusement as a smile of sheer delight grew on Kirihara's face. It took about ten minutes, and a lot of blood was spilt - most of it Gakuto's - but eventually Kirihara ended up sitting on top of Gakuto's back, a hand in the red hair as he contently rammed Gakuto's head against the floor in 2.7 second intervals.

"Niou-senpai, there was-" BAM! "-something I needed to-" BAM! "-talk to you-" BAM! "-about." Kirihara paused only slightly as he kept acquainting Gakuto's head with the carpet with amazing force.

"What? Oh, you're going to have to clean that... it's so hard to get up."

"I've found bleach effective in removing blood," Kirihara said, the pause less noticible this time.

The only thing Yagyuu did was make his accounting books lift and float out of the way of the splatter. Gakuto, meanwhile, had had enough, teleporting out of Kirihara's grip with an audible crack -- which might have been his power, or might have been his head. One of the two.

Kirihara hit the floor with a "bump!" and gave a pout which rivaled anything Kikumaru could have produced.

"You were saying, Kirihara?" Yagyuu asked, settling himself on the arm of Niou's chair again. He idly noted that Gakuto hadn't bothered to reappear and decided that the demon had probably thought it wisest to retreat ... or was off gathering ammunition.

Kirihara's attention suddenly focused in on Yagyuu, and that made Niou's alerts fire up. Kirihara, when he was paying attention, was a deadly thing. "Yagyuu-senpai.... as a former denizen of Heaven, you know who the archangels are, don't you?"

"Of course." A fine eyebrow raised above impenetrable glasses.

"Is there some reason you never saw fit to inform anyone that idiot Sengoku was graced with such a prestigious position?" Kirihara was still perfectly pleasant, but the way his eyebrow was twitching, Niou knew that Yagyuu was two seconds from getting his head pounded into the floor.

Then what Kirihara said processed in Niou's mind, and Niou took a deep breath and counted back from ten (okay, maybe he skipped three numbers, but it was the idea that was important). Turning to Yagyuu, he smiled. "It's a good question, Yagyuu." He sounded pretty calm himself... but his mind was screaming. Hell. Fuck. Shit.

Yagyuu adjusted his glasses again, a gesture of habit and nervousness more than anything else. It was not a pleasant thing to have two powerful demons eyeing one as though one was a platter about to be torn into. Time to play it off as 'no big deal'. "It never occurred to me to inform you. Sengoku Kiyosumi is one of the angels Heaven likes to forget it has."

The problem with dealing with demons was that they had perfect memories - when they chose to. "I seem to recall if there was anything "wrong" with Sengoku," Kirihara said. "You had a perfect chance then."

"You didn't listen to me when I told you not to pay anything of his. Why should I bother filling you in on details like what rank he has?"

"Indeed, Yagyuu, but in the five centuries we've been together, it might have helped me," Niou said, looking seriously put out.

"If he wasn't as old as he is, he'd be a joke. He is a joke," Yagyuu sighed. Things had been looking up before the interruptions and now this.

Niou sighed. "But he's got to be powerful, and power corrupts." His eyes lit up as he thought of corrupting an archangel.

Yagyuu almost clenched his teeth, before relaxing. He didn't want Sengoku anywhere near Niou. He didn't want Niou seeking Sengoku out. "That's just it. By heavenly standards, he is corrupt. He should already be fallen. But he's not. God, it seems, really likes having a court jester around."

"We don't want him down here, anyway. He's like mildew - you can't get rid of him," Kirihara complained. After finding out exactly how badly Sengoku had played him, all thoughts of damning him has vanished.

No... what Kirihara wanted to do was erase him from existence. He had a feeling some of the angels might even thank him.

"Indeed. He's more trouble to heaven exactly where he is."

"I don't care about that! I want him obliterated!" Kirihara shrieked.

"Someone's bitter," Gakuto hummed, snapping back into existence with a nail file, which he industriously put to work on his fingernails, happily sharpening them into points. "Did Tezuka get the drop on you again?"

Yagyuu's reply was calm, "I doubt attempting to eliminate him would be wise."

Kirihara looked thoughtful at Tezuka's name. "Maybe I should talk to him... thanks, Gakuto!" he said, teleporting out with renewed determination.

"Argh!! He wasn't supposed to like it!" Gakuto wailed, throwing his hands up.

"Now tell me why Tezuka is involved in this?" Niou blinked as he realized that for Sengoku to be an archangel, someone whom he'd thought was one really wasn't. "Is he the one who isn't really an archangel?"

"No, that would be Sanada." Since the cat was already out of the bag, Yagyuu didn't see any point in withholding the minor details of the situation.

Gakuto frowned, "Archangel? Tezuka? Sanada? What'd I miss? What's going on!?"

"Oh, nothing you need to concern yourself about." Niou smiled and glanced at the clock on his desk. "Shouldn't you be going? Our next shipment of damned souls is due in about thirty seconds."

The frivolous tossing about of his existence really pissed the demon of pride off. He snarled briefly at Niou, showing his teeth, "I'll get you for this, Niou," before smiling ever so pleasantly at Yagyuu, tossing his hair back. With that, Gakuto slid out the door in a suave glide, being sure to shake his hips on the way.

Yagyuu glanced at Niou out of the corner of an eye as soon as the door banged shut. "Where were we ... ?"

"I think you were about to give me a blowjob..."

"Ah, yes," Yagyuu smirked and walked over to do just that.
Shinji's life had begun to revolve around the bar. The drink was there, Oishi was there, and his nemesis was there. His nemesis. He liked the sound of that. Despite the appearance of bouncing, glittering, barely attired Eiji ... Shinji was sure he was pure unadulterated evil in tight pants. Too bad he wasn't here tonight, Shinji had really been hoping to dump his drink down those tight pants.

But no, all he got was the guy with the stick up his ass who liked to sit next to him and nurse one drink all evening. Not to mention that that particular shade of blue in the guy's shirt was beginning to give him a serious case of the twitches. A man shouldn't look that good in blue. It was a heinous attack on his ability to focus on Oishi.

Oishi hadn't been able to look Tezuka in the eye all evening, and he knew exactly why the other angel was there. He'd screwed up very, very badly by catching Fuji's attention, and he knew that it was his own stupid fault that he had embarrassed them both like that. The long, cold shower he'd taken as penance had taken two hours, and he still was feeling hyper-alert to Tezuka's presence.

Tezuka swirled his drink and ignored Shinji's covert hair glances with the ease of long practice. It was true that he was here because of Oishi (or at least, here to keep Oishi mostly on the path of righteousness, though how it was righteous when he was feeling maybe the tiniest little desire to kiss the other angel again ... ), but half of his mind was most definitely occupied with thoughts of Kirihara. That one was going to be trouble. If not now then at some point and Sengoku was only exasperating the situation.

It was a strange atmosphere between the three. Shinji wasn't talking at the moment, his quiet murmurs lost into the foam of his beer, Tezuka never talked anyway, and Oishi just wanted some time alone to remind himself what good angels were supposed to be like.

All that was needed was one spark, and the powder keg would blow up. Does it really need to be said that the next person who walked in was said spark?

Tezuka knew that power signature anywhere. He took a deliberate and fortifying swallow of his drink before saying in his most calm and even voice, "Good evening, Fuji."

It'd been nearly a century since the two had met face to face, and the slow, lazy way Fuji let his eyes scan Tezuka was overly familiar. Oishi stiffened a bit, but was grateful for the shelter of the bar. He wasn't sure how to react, really.

Apparently "metrosexual" was what the Devil had been thinking when he got dressed. His shoes were shining, and so were his fingernails (probably the result of a manicure), and the semi-casual clothes he wore looked like they'd been run over with an iron. He wore a brown khakis and a button-down shirt, but the stylish vest he had thrown over it was open in a slightly relaxed style. There were no glasses, but shades had been pushed into his hair, which was tied into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Tezuka ignored him through the ease of long practice. Shinji, however, reminded himself not to do something exceptionally stupid, like drool. That would be an unfortunate additive to his beer and might possibly give Oishi the wrong idea. How was it that Oishi had all these exceptionally attractive men flocking to him suddenly? Had he changed his cologne? Shinji gave the air a careful and subtle sniff ... huh, he didn't notice anything different ...

Fuji didn't bother taking a seat, but somehow there was nothing awkward about that. "Did you get my message?" he asked sweetly.

"Yes." It paid to be brief and to the point with the lord of hell.

Oishi wondered if anyone would notice if he teleported away.

Fuji glanced over at Oishi, the smile that never left his lips coming into play. "He's a very good messenger, isn't he?"

"Yes." Tezuka swirled his drink in a vaguely contemplative manner, looking up at Oishi over the tops of his glasses, making the other angel nothing more than a strangely appealing blur.

Oishi tried not to squeak. "Tezuka... I'm about to go on break...." Okay, maybe it wasn't supposed to be for another hour, but he supposed no one would begrudge him. It wasn't every day you got hassled by the Devil Himself.

"You don't go on a break for an hour, Oishi-san ... " Shinji observed. No, he was not a stalker. He was just curious, that's all. Just curious!

Oishi stared at Shinji in horror. "I was going to take it a bit early," he said. Why couldn't angels lie? he wondered in despair.

Shinji frowned, "Are they bothering you?" he asked, glancing at the two icons of se -- hateful attackers of Oishi.

"Tezuka is Oishi's best friend, and I know Tezuka very well," Fuji said. "Right, Tezuka?"

"No." Ah, the joys of horrifying and exacting truthfulness. He smirked, just a tiny, tiny bit.

Shinji eyed that smirk with something approaching respect. It took a master to smirk when barely moving your lips. One day he hoped to attain such perfection of subtlety. "Do you know Kikumaru too?" That would be the acid test.

"I know Kikumaru very well," Fuji said. "But I think a lot of people know Eiji...." Fuji sighed and looked nostalgic. "Ah, those were the days..."

"I don't like you. Maybe you should go away," Shinji informed Fuji, calmly thumping his beer.

That was so direct and painfully to the point that Tezuka almost, almost smiled.

Fuji blinked in surprise. It was rare someone took a dislike to him. Squinting a bit, he read Shinji's soul, trying to see if he was some kind of holy man. Nope. Just a schmuck who happened to have some weird sort of luck.

Fuji was an ally of the enemy. He was automatically painted with the brush of EVIL through pure unadulterated association. And he confirmed that Eiji was a tart. Shinji sniffed primly at that. He had always known.

Tezuka took another sip of his drink "You heard the man. He does not like you. Perhaps you should leave."

Fuji sighed. "I guess you want to be alone with Oishi again," he said, a slightly defeated tone in his voice.

Oishi tried his b.est not to swallow as he was suddenly dragged back into the conversation.

Shinji eyeballed Fuji, under the impression he was talking to him. "Yes. Go away."

"Would you like to get some coffee, then?" Fuji asked, holding a hand out to Shinji. "It would be rude of us to get in the way."

Tezuka sighed quietly to himself, which managed not to even waver his breathing, and counted the seconds to immediate Shinji hatred of the proceedings.

Shinji glowered at the outstretched hand, "I don't want to get coffee with you." Then the rest of the statement filters its way through his brain and he tilted his head to look at Oishi and Tezuka. He didn't think they were a couple .... it was Eiji who was hitting on Oishi, after all. Shinji was pretty sure that Tezuka barely counted as an active lifeform, let alone an active threat to him.

"Something else, then?" Fuji looked a bit longingly at Tezuka, making the slightest expression that could be interpreted as unrequitted desire. "I know that the two of them haven't had their hands on each other in a couple of hours, and they're-"

"Fuji!" Oishi exclaimed in horror.

"-probably pretty horny. Tezuka's lips are pretty swollen, and so are Oishi's," Fuji said blithely, ignoring the interruption. "They couldn't keep their hands off of each other last night."

Oishi swallowed, wanting to deny it, but unable to do that stupid thing against lying. Staring at Shinji, Oishi felt a lump of lead settle in his stomach, knowing that the mortal was going to be played quite badly by the Master of Hell.

Tezuka wasn't quite sure what benefit Shinji has in Fuji's game, but anything Fuji wanted was usually bad. Ergo, he should start to intervene. He took another swallow of his drink and slid Fuji a bland glance, "I like how you manage to forget to mention your own involvement in last night's debacle, considering you were there." Where, when, and how need not be specified.

Shinji had been staring at Tezuka and Oishi (specifically their lips, which he would have admired anyway because they were lovely lips in their own right) with suspicion, but Tezuka's sudden addition threw his brain for a loop. A very sordid loop into the nearest sexual gutter where it swam happily with the idea of Oishi and threesome's with sexy gay men. He took a sudden demanding swallow of his beer at the mental addition of himself.

Fuji knew exactly how to corner Tezuka. "It wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't made it abundantly clear that you preferred Oishi's company to mine." All true. "I didn't even get to lay a finger on you, while Oishi had his hands-"

"Fuji!" Oishi managed to choke out, for a second time.

"All over your ass. You expect me not to be jealous? You expect Eiji not to react?"

"Considering that you and Eiji are together, I fail to see your difficulty," was the ever so bland reply from Tezuka.

Shinji made an effort to pull his thought facilities from his other head only to lose them again with the thought of Oishi and Oishi's hands on ass.

"Eiji and I haven't slept together in centuries, as you well know." Fuji tried his best to sound like a jealous lover. "I just think that Oishi should have better taste than to sleep with the nearest available body."

Shinji perked up. Really? Oishi slept with the nearest available body? He could be available! Anytime! Anywhere! Just say the word! "Do you really do that, Oishi-san?" There was an almost hopeful note in his voice.

"No!" Oishi objected. "You shouldn't listen to Fuji!"

"Why not? Have I told him anything that wasn't the strictest truth?" Fuji replied, knowing very well he hadn't, and Oishi was caught. "I may have exaggerated a bit about you being a slut, but the fact is, you made out with three people in the last two days."

"All of which could be traced back to being your fault, Fuji," Tezuka commented, observing the last of his drink with apparent idleness.

Shinji riveted onto the fact that Oishi was getting smooched by three people, while his mind happily supplied him with images of Tezuka/Oishi (which seemed to occur on desks with lots of paperwork), Eiji/Oishi (ew, just ew), and Fuji/Oishi (which happened in the back seats of cars) .... his carefully constructed image of Oishi the Blindingly Perfect and Pure Vessel of Adoration shattered like glass. "Can I have a kiss too, Oishi-san?"

Rock, meet hard place. "Um, Ibu-san, I really don't think that's such a good idea. We're friends, and I'd hate for anything to interfere with our relationship." Oishi tried not to squirm, glancing desperately at the clock which said he had another half an hour before he could take his break.

"So ... they aren't your friends?"

"It's a different kind of friend," Oishi hedged desperately.

"What if I want to be that kind of friend?" Shinji pressed.

"I think he's taken at the moment," Fuji said insidiously.

"No, he's not," Tezuka added.

Fuji played his ace. "Well, you're living with him!"

"Of course," Tezuka remained cool as a cucumber, "Roommates should take care of each other. I would hardly call that taken, though."

He wished his roommate would take care of him.

"Well, if you can get sex from your roomie, I guess it's a convenient thing." Fuji made a slight pout. "But you cut off other people who could... like... you," he announced in a voice which was barely above a whisper. "Shinji-kun, how about I treat you to dinner? I know a really good place, and since Tezuka and Oishi can't bear to be parted, maybe we can find some... comfort... in each other." The smile he offered would have turned an eighty-year-old monk on.

Tezuka managed to sound like the master of reason. "You can hardly like me much if you insist of comforting everyone you come across."

Shinji eyed Fuji with only slightly less distaste, though admittedly the idea of possible sex was a great improvement on his vision of Fuji the Most High Evil Associated with Eiji, which had now been upgraded to Fuji the Evil that Might Put Out.

"I have to consol myself some way, don't I?" Fuji walked over to Shinji and draped his arms around the usually depressed mortal. "I have the nicest hotel suite..."

Oishi saw the red lights blazing in front of him and knew he had to make a decision. If Shinji got lured into Fuji's clutches, it was Game Over for the angelic side. He opened his mouth to intervene, but was jerked upright by Angelic Law. It was up to Shinji to resist this temptation.

Shinji shifted uncomfortably. He didn't get touched that often and Fuji's touch in particular was making him feel squirmy. In accordance with this feeling, he tried to edge to the side and almost overbalanced his stool, "Why are you living in a hotel?"

"I'm on vacation and decided to look up a few old friends. I was hoping to persuade Tezuka-san to consider a career change, but I think he's too obsessed with his current position." Fuji leaned over and licked Shinji's ear. "We don't need Tezuka and Oishi to have a good time."

"My current position offers a better benefits package than the one you are offering me, Fuji," Tezuka replied.

Shinji shivered. It was enticing, "Okay."

The delighted smile on Fuji's face made Oishi want to cry. He tried to think of some way - any way - to prevent the imminent disaster, but Fuji hustled Shinji out of the bar within thirty seconds of the acceptance, leaving Tezuka and Oishi alone.

"We have a bit of a problem here," Oishi said.

"Yes," Tezuka was agreeable to this assessment.

Oishi stared at Tezuka's decidedly neutral face, wondering if anything else could go wrong. Murphy's law being what it is, the door swung open ten seconds later, and a red-head wearing pleather bounced through the door to deposit himself on the stool Shinji had just vacated.

Oishi grabbed a bottle of tequilla from behind the bar and chugged it down to brace himself for a long night.