The Wrong Kiss ch.1

Shinigaminx

Notes: Ok, let's see… First posted fic, so, of course, pleeeease review. Comments will be replied to promptly and flames will be used to toast marshmallows. Oh, and uber AU Relena, but I promise, there is a method to the madness.

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Don't sue me, unless you want the lint in my pockets.

The Wrong Kiss

Shinigaminx

"I will never surrender!"

I went flying backwards and thudded against a brick wall. Gasping, I tried to fill my lungs again. Scrabbling inside my jacket for my pistol, I twisted away from the tall, sandy haired man's next attack.

"God damn" I paused and yanked the gun out and trained it on his forehead as he closed on me. "you! Why won't you -die-?"

He saw the gun and tried to duck down and backwards Grinning savagely, I helped him with a knock on the head, using the pistol as a club. He stumbled, almost falling and I brought it down on his head again. He fell to his knees and a snap kick to the throat laid him out on his back. Before he could get up I dropped down, one knee on his chest, the other pinning an outstretched arm. Whipping a vial out of my jacket and holding it threateningly over his head, I said, "Game's up. You lose."

"Not while I live! Long live the real king!" He growled deep in his throat and thrashed, but he couldn't get enough leverage to throw me. He scrabbled at my back, nails digging in painfully, but I hit the bundle of nerves at the shoulder as hard as I could, effectively numbing his arm.

"You -aren't- alive. You are scum personified, and what's worse, you're dead scum." He attempted to spit into my face. Spitting up works about at well as spitting into the wind, for future reference. I cracked the top of the vial and tilted it minutely. "Can you guess what I've got in here?"

"Human! Vile, reeking, idiotic human. I'll never talk!"

"Wow. I hadn't even asked yet. You things have become prescient?" I leaned in a little closer, just out of the range of his bared, snapping fangs. "Yes. You will talk." I tried out my I'm-in-the-middle-of-a-battle-and-I'm-having-the-time-of-my-life grin on him, but it didn't do much. That look definitely worked better when you were a decent sized guy. A little blond just doesn't get the same mileage out of it.

"Never! I will die first! Long live the true king, death to the usurper-"

"Would you shut up or tell me something useful? I don't have all night you know." I tilted the bottle a little more and a sparkling drop hung poised at the lip of the vial. "A little birdie told me holy water does wonders for the complexion. Wanna try it and find out?"

"Holy-? Die!" He wrenched his arm out from under my knee and grabbed my neck, his fingers digging in till they drew blood. I did the only thing I could think of. I tucked the pistol firmly underneath his chin and pulled the trigger. Blood, bone shards and ashes scattered all over the pavement. The body beneath me dissolved and I fell heavily to the ground. Looking up, I shook my head slowly. An alley behind an apartment building. A silencer can only go so far. You'd think a fight and a gun shot would have made a at least -one- person stick their head out the window. Sighing, I climbed to my feet and brushed the ashes off my jeans. Blood streaked the arm of my jacket. Addressing the spots left on the ground, I spoke wryly. "Thanks. Now I'll have to get it cleaned." Spinning on my heel, I stalked off into the night.

Once I was back on a lighted street I pulled out a cell phone and punched in a very, very closely guarded number.

"Kushrenada here. What?"

"It's Lena. I hope you're not busy, 'cause I got more bad news for you."

"What?" His voice turned guarded, and I could almost see him through the phone, tense, waiting.

"I caught another one, early in my rounds. Same MO. Death to the humans, death to the usurper, all that fun stuff."

There was a pause on the line. You could almost hear the clicks as Trieze turned over his options. "Damn. That's the third one in two weeks."

"I know, I caught two of them, remember?"

Treize sighed. "Enough. Tonight, I do –not- want you disappearing to that clu-"

I smiled and rolled my eyes as I clapped the phone shut. If I didn't hear orders, I couldn't disobey them, now could I? My phone rang again, insistently. I ignored it and waited for the ringing to stop. Waiting till I passed a group of laughing teenagers to turn my phone off, one caught my eye. A girl with short blond hair ran a quick, cynical eye over me, then turned to her friend and said something that made them both laugh. I bit down hard on the urge to say something. They were much too young to be as cynical as they seemed intent on being. Most of them probably had homes that they should be going to. A quick look at my watch showed 12:30. A pang of sorrow sped through me. Stupid teenagers. I had better not have to kill one of them soon…

As soon as I was passed I broke into an easy, ground eating lope. Stopping after a half mile or so, I tugged my clothes into place and smoothed my hair in a dark store window. Turning a corner into what looked like a dark alley, a bass beat began thrumming through my feet. I yanked open a back door and a burst of music spilled out and surrounded me. Slipping inside, I nodded to a tall red-head who went by. "Door duty tonight Trowa?" A brief nod in return was all I got before he vanished into the crowd. I grinned as I made my way up to the bar. Poor guy. You'd think working in a club as amazing as Blue Heaven would have gotten him to open up more.

Blue Heaven is a special place, even in a city known for its clubs. From the out side it looks like an old warehouse. Actually, that exactly what is used to be. The back way in is an old alleyway, the front is the old loading dock. The outside hasn't been changed at all. The inside though…That's another story entirely.

The front doors open into the bar, a raised platform that rings the dance floor. The platform is two feet up, and smoke issues from under the steps going down to the floor. The bar takes up the entire back wall, a long, dark, mahogany and brass monstrosity of immense age and stature. In the middle of the floor there is a circular stage that the dancers swirl around. There are cast iron, spiral staircases in each corner of the first floor, leading up to a balcony with a low railing, overlooking the dance floor. On the balcony, there are tall café tables and high chairs against the walls, interspersed with piles of huge, black, beanbag cushions. Couple and friends who want to talk can be found snuggling on a pile of cushions, or gathered six to a table. The entire building is done in blue and purple and black, with splashes of bright red and pink thrown in for color. The walls of a dance floor are actually a huge mural of Van Gogh's 'Night Sky' with a huge silver moon. The stars are tiny strings of icicle lights, draped across the ceiling like real stars.

On one side of the balcony, there is a set of stairs leading to the third floor. Tucked into a dark corner and closed with a velvet rope, the stairs lead to offices and the very well soundproofed apartment of the couple that runs the club. A set of dark red cushions, the only ones of that color in the house, are reserved for the lady that owns the club, and her special guests.

It was into this dizzyingly dark and subtly swirling paradise of a club that I made her entrance. Making my way through the loud, laughing crowd, I settled at the bar, imperiously gesturing for a bartender. It was a new girl, so I simply asked where 'The Lady' was. It was how everyone knew the owner, a tall, stunning woman with ridiculously long blonde hair. The girl pointed down the bar mutely and I turned to see Dorothy grab a man's shoulder and hustle him away from the bar towards the door. I smiled and turned back to the bartender. She would be busy for a while. When she had to toss someone out, she usually found a way to make them remember it. "A water for upstairs and could you tell the Lady that Lena is waiting for her?"

The girl nodded and spoke into the mouth piece of her headset, no doubt telling the Eyes upstairs about the request. She pulled a water out and plunked it on the bar top. "House says it's comped. Have fun tonight."

With a quick smile she turned back to her other customers. I dropped my water into my pocket and made my way through the rapidly thickening throng to the floor. Slipping into the midst of the dancers, I reveled in the energy for a moment, before dancing my way towards the far side of the floor. Someone caught my hips and swung me in a tight circle, pressing close to me back. I let myself flow with the motion but every muscle my body tensed. The hands, they were much too cold for this hot room, and the body temperature was nil. Spinning in the vampire's embrace, I slid my hand down my body and smiled wickedly up at him. Dipping my other hand into my pocket, I slipped a little black button into his coat without him noticing. Later, when I left the club, I would follow the tracking device he now carried and dust this bastard. With a last fake, simpering smile, I slipped into the crowd and off the floor. I climbed the stairs to the balcony, enjoying the view below. Settling on the dark red cushions, still drinking in the energy of the giant warehouse, I leaned back and closed my eyes, waiting for Dorothy.

Someone settled onto the cushion and my eyes popped wide open. Grinning, I leaned over and gave Dorothy an affectionate hug. "I missed you this week. I haven't been playing hooky enough lately!"

Dorothy laughed, a throaty, sexy sound. "I'm glad you're not playing hooky any more than you are. If you weren't the best agent in the company your ass would be grass.

"Too right!" I settled back and sipped at my water. "You've got another vampire on the floor, but I promise, I won't dust him in here."

Dorothy grimaced. "Thank you. It would cut off a source of information that you need if the vampires stopped coming here. Oh and, by the way, the new Goth girl who's tending downstairs? It's not makeup that makes her so white. Leave her alone though."

"Dorothy-"

"No! No killing the help, or you don't get anything! And you need the information too badly."

"Fine." I sighed, a little petulantly I suppose, and took another sip of my water. "These vaunted intelligence sources haven't turned up something on 'The Real King' for me, have they?"

"Actually…" Dorothy paused, smiling secretively. "They have. I predict you get a call to go to New Orleans sometime tonight."

"What! New Orleans? That's way out of my territory. Why would I go there?"

"Because you're the remaining half of the team that took down the last Court. You're famous in both worlds and you're in demand. My information says that the New Orleans office captured a rouge female. She's still alive, though for how much longer is anyone's guess."

I sat back and frowned, wrinkling my nose. "A live one... That –is- useful. But can you give me any more? That's not really information about the current problem."

Dorothy sighed. "Go talk to her! She probably has information you can you. By the time you get back, I'll have information for you. But for now, I don't have anything else."

I stuck my tongue out at her and laughed. "I'm sorry. I know I'm bugging you, but I really do need the information." Taking another sip of my water, I capped it and put it in my pocket. "Ok then, I'd better get going."

We hugged again and bussed cheeks. "Goodbye Lena. See you when you get back."

Back outside in the cool night air, I took a deep breath and turned towards my apartment. Crossing a few streets and a pair of railroad tracks, I dropped over a fence into my parking lot. I know, not the most dignified way home, but certainly the fastest. I let myself into my building and jogged up the steps to my apartment. I used to have a housemate, but his room is storage space now, and it's the only place I can stand to have the answering machine. Sure enough, when I checked it, the light was blinking malevolently.

"Miss Darlian, since you haven't seen fit to turn you cell phone back on yet, I will leave a message here. Call the office and get flight information. You're going to New Orleans tonight. The pilot will have a briefing packet for you. Please leave by midnight. Thank you."

Trieze's chilly voice cut off. The man has known my family forever, and he thinks that gives him the right to be more easily annoyed by with me. Since I use it as an excuse to yell at him, something no one else does, I suppose we're even. Sighing once again, I stomped back to my front door and grabbed the overnight bag that lives in the hall closet. Locking the door behind me, I decided that it was going to be a -very- long night.