Pawns
by Quicksilver
Part Five
Miyako yelled into her cellphone, "I don't care what your excuse is, I want to know how the hell both of them managed to get in and out of here!"
Akita was the unlucky detective who had drawn the duty of accompanying Miyako while she inspected the premises. "Miyako, go gentle on them. They're new- they can't be expected to catch Jeanne and Sinbad where we failed."
The teen stalked around angrily, frustrated. "I know that!" she snapped at the dapper young detective. "It's just that I have no clue what happened! What were they fighting about? What was Jeanne trying to do that upset Sinbad so much? Why the hell did they both leave, and how did they manage it? One minute they were there... the next moment they were not! It was impossible, but those two seem to be making a career of doing the impossible!"
"Well, at least the Tower's still there," Akita said cheerfully, trying to soothe her a little.
"For how long? They'll be back," Miyako said bitterly.
He had no answer to that.
"Miyako!" her father called. "Look what we found!" He held out an object that had been carefully bagged. "We'll dust for fingerprints, but I doubt we'll find them."
Miyako went over to her father, her eyebrows moving towards her hairline. "It's a pin," she said, staring at the small white item.
"It's what Jeanne threw at the tower," he agreed. "It was actually lodged in the metal, if you can believe it. We had to pry it out."
"My goodness," Miyako murmured. She stared at the beautiful white pin. "What's it made of?" she asked.
"Dunno. We're going to be sending it to that lab."
Miyako took the bag in her hands and carefully weighed it. It was surprisingly heavy. Part of her believed that it was made out of white marble, though that didn't seem quite right. A marble pin of this design would be frighteningly expensive, and would serve no purpose. Then again much of what the two legendary kaitou did was without evident meaning. "It's pretty," she said.
"This is the first time either of them has left any physical evidence behind at the scene, so it's important."
Miyako nodded. "They fought again," she told her father.
"Fought? It looked like they were in on this one together- Sinbad helped Jeanne make her getaway. It's not the first time that's happened."
"No... but they seem to be competing, and occasionally that leads to some serious tension between them. Once or twice it's left them in some really tight spots. Jeanne and Sinbad will use each other as bait. They know each other."
"Catch one, we'll catch the other?" her father asked, trying to clarify his daughter's train of thought.
"Exactly."
"Well, we'll do our best, but catching one has been a problem so far."
"Haven't you heard that the criminal always returns to the scene of the crime?" Miyako asked with an almost feral expression on her face. "They'll be back, and Jeanne is weak right now. If we take her out, Sinbad is sure to follow."
A mile away, Sinbad placed his female counterpart on a bench. Long dark lashes cut crescents across her pale cheeks as her chest lifted with slow, easy breathing. Her golden hair had worked free of its ponytail and small tendrils of it brushed enticingly against her ivory face.
She was, in a word, beautiful.
More then anything, he wanted to take her home so she could recooperate in her own bed. She had just spent an amazing amount of energy attempting to Checkmate a demon too strong for her, and he was worried about how healthy she would be. It would take her a few days to recover at the very least.
But her couldn't bring her home. That would demonstrate his knowledge of her real identity, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. If he did that, she would rapidly put the pieces together and deduce who he was. He didn't want to be in the same country should that happen. Maron had quite a temper and wouldn't take to the truth very well. In fact, it could be rather painful.
Shaking his head, he looked at the other kaitou, amazed at how small she was. As either Maron or Jeanne she had such presence that she dwarfed those around her, yet without the force of her personality, she looked small and vulnerable, and his protective instincts kicked in.
Without thinking on what he was doing, Sinbad brought a hand forward to brush a lock of errant hair away from her eyes. His gentle touch caused the eyes to snap open.
Jeanne jerked away from him, sitting upright. "What are you doing?" she rasped in a hoarse voice. She tried to get to her feet, but was dizzy trying to move.
He made up a quick lie. "Checking to see if you have a temperature."
She glared at him. "I don't need your sympathy!"
"Jeanne, you almost killed yourself with tonight's Checkmate. You tried to take on a demon that was more powerful then you, using only the pin. If I hadn't been there you would have died."
What little color Jeanne had drained out of her face. "Liar," she whispered, but her voice lacked conviction.
"Don't you even know what you're doing?" he asked.
"I am the reincarnation of Joan of Arc!" she said proudly. "I am the one who was summoned by God to banish demons from this world. You, Sinbad, are not welcome!"
He shook his head, and his eyes studied her with something approaching contempt. "You are ignorant, Jeanne. I am not an agent of the devil; I work for myself, and myself alone," he told her coolly.
She made a derisive noise close to a snort. "You expect me to believe your lies?"
"I expect you to believe the truth, the evidence of your eyes, and your heart." Her defiant glare didn't abate, and he sighed. "Very well, Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne. When you're ready to learn, I will be a mentor to you," he informed her. Then he turned his back on her and left.
She watched him go, then released the image of Jeanne, and along with it, most of her remaining strength. Kusakabe Maron sat where a second before one of the most elusive thieves in Tokyo's history had existed.
Exhausted beyond almost all words, she brought her knees to her chest, hugging them close for warmth. It was a balmy night, yet she was shivering with cold. What was wrong with her?
"Why couldn't I finish that Checkmate?" she whispered, the night absorbing her words. They sounded empty and hopeless.
"I don't know," Fin Fish whispered, appearing suddenly.
"Where were you, Fin?" Maron demanded.
Fin gave her a guilty look. "I couldn't get close enough to you to communicate using the petit clare. The demon was simply too powerful. Maron, I don't know what to do," she confessed. She sat on Maron's lap, her posture the very picture of dejection. Her pristine white feathers drooped and her face was depressed.
"We can't just leave a demon like that to steal the hearts of those who love the Tower," Maron agreed. Without thinking about it, she nibbled on her lip, trying to get her head straightened out. "We'll have to make another attempt." She held out her rosary for her to charge. "Fin..."
Fin looked at Maron in shock. "Now?" she demanded.
"They won't be expecting me to come at them again so soon. Come on," she said.
Fin shook her head, denying Maron's request. "Maron, can you even stand up? You don't have the strength to become Jeanne right now, and I'm not going to let you! They'll catch you at the very least, and if things go badly enough, you could die!"
"But I can't let that demon get away!" Maron said fiercely.
"No, but think rationally! You're doing no one any good if you get hurt! Please, Maron!" the angel begged, tears starting to brim over in her huge green eyes.
Maron looked like she was going to keep arguing, but finally nodded with reluctant agreement. "You're right. But we go as soon as we figure out what to do."
Fin returned her nod. "Are you strong enough to get home?"
Maron looked around, and was surprised that she recognized her surroundings. "We're in that park close to my apartment," she murmured. "It's not that far -- after all, how else am I to get home? I'll be fine."
"Kami-sama will provide," Fin Fish said mischeviously. Then she winked playfully and darted upwards before Maron could ask her what she meant.
Maron had lied when she had assured her companion she could get home. As she rose to her feet, she was overwhelmed by a wave of dizziness that swept through her body. She couldn't recall ever being this exhausted, she worried. Sometimes after a Checkmate she would need almost immediate sleep, but it had never been disabling.
"Drat," she fumed, wondering where the nearest phone was, and hoping she had her phone card on her. But who could she call? Hey, Miyako, I just was out as Jeanne and wasn't able to complete my theft, and I managed to drain all my energy and am as weak as a newborn babe... could you come and get me? That would go over real well.
"Maron?" a voice said in surprise. She looked over her shoulder, and was surprised to see Chiaki jogging toward her, wearing sweats.
"Chiaki!" she said with equal surprise.
He advanced rapidly, bending over to catch his breath. "Was out for a job. What were...you don't look so good." He pressed a hand against her forehead. "You have a fever. Can you walk?" he demanded.
"No," she said in a small voice.
"Come on," he said, then he bent and picked her up. "I'll take you home."
She relaxed against his shoulder, and soon drifted off into the land of much-needed sleep.
Chiaki held her close as he made his way to his apartment. He'd had to double-time it as Sinbad, making a risky trip home to get his sweats so Maron wouldn't suspect, but he had had no other option. Telling her his identity was out of the question. Her body was warm and soft in his arms, and her hair smelled like strawberries.
He walked the four blocks to their apartment building in a hurry, ignoring the stares of the other pedestrians. Entering hastily, he took the elevator, determined to get her in her own bed as soon as possible. He, better than anyone, understood exactly what her body was going through. He'd experienced a reaction like this once when he had been starting out, before he had realized exactly what a Checkmate was. Apparently Maron hadn't, or else she would have been more careful.
He hated having to wake her, but he had no choice. "Key?" he said gently into her ear.
She murmured something softly in her sleep, then produced a key from her pocket, handing it over without a qualm. Taking it, he opened the door.
Their apartments were mirrors of each other, so he knew about where her bedroom was located. Carrying her threw the living area, he opened the door, and was surprised by how feminine the decor was. Not that he should have been, but Maron had never struck him as a girl who wanted to be girlie.
He set her on the bed and removed her boots before sliding her beneath the blankets. Going into the bathroom, he found a washcloth and wet it down with cool water. He planned on placing it on her head to attempt to bring her fever down. After he had done so, he looked at her.
"Sleep well, Maron," he whispered, brushing a kiss over her soft lips.
