Too Tired to Think

Warning: Krad/OC
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Yukiru Sugisaki and Tokyopop own DNAngel, Dark, Krad, Daisuke, Satoshi and any other characters mentioned. However, Camilla and Asylum are purely my creation and any use of them outside my works needs to be approved by me. (Not that anyone would want to steal them.)

Part 1

Camilla sat in the vent in the Venti Art Museum, looking at her nails with a bored expression on her face. If someone were to see her sitting there, in the tight black outfit she wore with the holster on her gun, knife, tazer and everything else known to cause damage to the human body around her waist, they would had thought her insane. And the fact she was humming to herself didn't help either.

The tall, slender blonde was ticking off the list of things she had to do tonight mentally. It was a long list; and last priority on it was sleep, something she needed desperately. But first, as always, she had to do Dark's every bidding, which included tonight, sitting in a vent.

If she had it her way, she would be at home, playing her piano. I would be eating, she thought angrily, not sitting here letting my stomach digest itself.

Only family honor stood in the way, the same family honor that lost her home, social standing, and forced her to live with an unbearable twit as an adopted sibling. And that same cursed honor made her sign a contract with Emiko Niwa, promising to guard Dark's and his tamer's (Daisuke) life with her very own.

Camilla was awoken from her regretful memory by the crackle of her walkie-talkie. She fidgeted around in the tight space until she was able to grasp the communication devise.

"What," said Camilla impatiently.

"Sorry," answered a nervous Daisuke, "but we're... I mean I'm..."

Daisuke's stuttering was stopped and replaced with a smoother, deeper voice, "as my tamer was trying to say, shake a leg and don't screw up."

Agitated by Dark's unkindness towards her, she slipped the walkie-talkie back into her belt, though she felt she somewhat deserved this treatment for the circumstances.

What, shouted a voice in the back of her head, no way! It's not YOUR fault, it's HERS.

The reminder of 'her' made her realize why she was here. The soft cackle in Camilla's mind foretold her that 'she' was about to make an appearance. But this time, Camilla felt too exhausted to try to fight it. The creature inside of her knew of her weakness tonight, and that one thing was rest.

In less than a moment Camilla shrank in height, her hair became considerably short and turned a dark, midnight black and emotionless dark brown eyes developed into feline, mischievous green.

"Don't worry Cami," laughed a new, higher, more upbeat voice than the form before, "I'll make sure you get home right at bedtime."

The new figure kicked out the filter beneath her; making her clatter, rather noisily, into the hall below. A police officer turned on the spot, and gawked at the smiling girl staring straight at him. Taking in the lethal weapons she was adorn in, the man began to stammer, "t-the... the---"

"... Insane Asylum," picked up the dark-haired girl, "very good. You must be a smart one, shame I have to knock you out." And with that, the fairly well-known assassin picked up her stun gun and sent hundreds of volts of electricity through his body. He fell limply to the floor with a revolting smack.

"You're lucky I wasn't I the mood for blood," Asylum smiled sickly; "'cause I have a feeling you would've been missed."

All that was left to do was wait, Dark had made it clear that he didn't want her pasted to his side this evening. And Asylum didn't want to. Though missing out on the thrill of Dark's robbery defeated the purpose of the high alert she was on right now. But her host tonight was ready for anything. If they were to be ambushed there was a smaller chance of them escaping unscratched, and that wouldn't please her tamer.

The girl had her pistol pulled and was lingering in the corridor. She paced up and down, waiting and watching for anything. However in future references, the force that pushed her into the wall that night, Asylum would argue there was no way to have foreseen that. The bruising vigor on her wrists caused her to drop her gun, which ended up skittering many feet away.

She looked up scathingly as her attacker only to meet pleased, golden eyes staring down at her. "How is it," drawled Krad's distinguished voice, "that I'm beginning to find you coincidently close to Dark's targets all the time?"

"Let go," hissed Asylum, trying to fight off the larger boy. But if when she was energized she was evenly matched with him, then how, in such a drained state, was she to get away now?

"Not even a hello?" he tsked, his eyes still not leaving her face, "what ever happened to your manners?" He stroked her cheek with one of his long fingers.

"C'mon Krad," whined the assassin, her green eyes closed shut, trying to block the feeling of his fingers on her face that seeped down into her toes. "Any night but tonight, I'm just not..."

"Prepared?" finished the blonde, "That will make it so much easier to this."

And with that, Krad kissed Asylum so firmly, Asylum completely forgot why she was trying to force him away.

TBC...