Chapter 2: Black Jack

---

They were getting close to LA. The captain had announced they had about half an hour left of flight and that they were over land. Not that you could see through the thick cloud cover (or was it fog? Los Angeles was famous for it after all...), but they were reaching their destination. Tourists returning from Japan, tourists going to America, foreign exchange students, other interns, and even a few people making the trip permanent. There was an overall feeling of excitement, and wondering what awaited them at the airport.

Ukon had become very popular on the plane. Little kids had crowded around the fast-talking red haired puppet, shooting back their own childish wisecracks. Ukon was even more engrossing than Beauty and the Beast, the current in-flight film. He shook hands, patted heads, and laughed and joked and had various outbursts of annoyance which the kids found very funny. He was like Pinocchio, only cooler!

Adults were awed by how masterfully Sakon controlled the puppet, and the dark-haired teen's ventriloquism was flawless. It was, at first, unnerving, but Sakon soon proved himself to be simply harmless and amusing, though unusual.

He didn't notice that two pairs of eyes were watching him with more than puppets on their mind.

"Ne, mister, you're a puppet master then? My dad likes going to see puppet shows at festivals!"

"Nah," Said Ukon patting Sakon's cheek lazily. "This guy is studying to be a detective. Fat chance though. He's so useless, he needs my help to figure out how to tie his shoes!"

This was followed by a lot of laughing.

"So are you moving to America? I'm moving to LA!" One girl who was about six piped up, looking at the puppet hopefully. It would be cool if she could live near a puppet and a detective! It would be just like Sesame Street, or Domo-kun.

"Not moving really," said the puppet with his easy-going voice. "He's just staying there for a while to study."

"Aw, ya hafta study even when you're a grown up?" said a boy around nine.

"That's lame." A twelve year old grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, but somethings are fun to study," Ukon said defensively.

"Nuh uh!"

"No way!"

Ukon surveyed the defiant, protesting audience, and then closed his eyes looking very solemn. "Dinosaurs."

And there was a burst of cheering. Dinosaurs were okay to study.

---

Tsuzuki and Hisoka exchanged glances.

"My god, it's so obvious. And in public too." Tsuzuki tsked. "He must not know."

Hisoka nodded, staring back at the puppet master who was the center of attention. "He's definitely channeling."

"I thought that technique had died out long ago."

They had their attention so focused on what Sakon was doing that they failed to notice that the clouds below had started to churn dangerously.

There was a polite bing! noise and an even more polite 'ahem' on the intercom.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. Please turn your attention to the overhead sign and fasten your seat belts. We may be experiencing slight turbulence before landing."

Looks were exchanged, and there was a slight bump. It was a precursor of many to come, and of a far more violent nature.

Elsewhere, a man with silver hair smiled like a snake. "Good to see you again, brother."

---

After much incident, they landed. One might want to read about it, but for the most part it was a lot of shaking and bumping and general unpleasantness.

Outside there was a lot of wind, thunder and lightning and most of all i rain /i . It fell in sheets along the smoke-glass windows that gave the world even more of a blue-gray tint. Sakon stared out at 'sunny' California, feeling rather miserable and not just because he had been sick on the plane. The minute they had got off, he had made a beeline to the bathroom to change his shirt and wash his face and mouth.

He was being followed.

When he left the bathroom, he noticed a sandy haired teen with eyes green as fresh spring grass casting him a furtive glance. Sakon vaguely recognized the teen from the flight. Shrugging it off, he collected his luggage from the conveyor belt and hurried to the nearest pay phone to call a cab. He didn't notice the dark haired man in a black coat trailing behind him.

---

The rain hadn't let up when he got outside to wait for his cab under a large, overhanging roof. It was a cold rain, falling from bruise-colored clouds, and he was glad Ukon was safe in the black wooden box strapped to his back, because his traveling cloak was keeping very little of the windblown spray off.

When the cab pulled up, Sakon got inside and sagged in relief.

By the time the two Shinigami had followed him out the door, the cab was driving off, leaving the two staring at it anxiously.

"What the hell is one of those doing in Los Angeles?" Tsuzuki wondered aloud, kicking an empty, discarded coke can into the gutter.

"It may have something to do with Muraki." Hisoka said blandly.

"You think?"

"I don't know. This storm worries me though."

"You saw how those clouds were moving from the plane as well, huh?"

Hisoka nodded. "Like a summoning."

---

Leon Orcot trudged through the rain, cursing himself for never investing in an umbrella for when his car was in the shop and he didn't have enough money to pay for a cab because he was spending it all on sweets for that insufferable bastard, Count D. Case in point, the small box of of Llindt truffles that was getting increasingly damper and damper despite the shelter he was trying to provide in his jacket. He also cursed that Manti-thingie for clawing up his back seat, denting his roof from the inside, and biting his clutch stick clean off, hence the reason his car was in the shop to begin with. God, he had a hard time explaining that one to the hapless mechanic.

Leon had the day off. The Chief had been furious that he had run off the other day without a warning, and was too annoyed to even talk to the detective, so he told him to take the day off, and get whatever bug he had up his ass out.

Leon didn't know when he started using his days off to visit the Count. He had justified it as simply putting up the illusion of friendship, and hopefully the sweets he bought would loosen D's lips enough so that he could finally nail his ass to the wall.

Yeah. Good plan. ...God, he was getting drenched out here.

As he approached the shop, Leon hoped the Count wouldn't mind him coming in smelling like a wet dog. Well, he had chocolate to bribe him with. Damn good, damn expensive chocolate at that. Ducking under a festively colored tarp overhang for some sales booth or another, he tugged the chocolates from out of his jacket and inspected them. The box was looking the worse for wear, but opening the lid, the round little delicacies had proved to be real troopers. Besides a few rain droplets, they had come through just fine. Good. The shop was just twenty feet away.

Sprinting through the rain, he skidded to a halt outside the door and to his shock, the door opened before he even touched the handle.

"Oh!" Said the man who had stepped out. "I beg your pardon." He was a tall man in his early thirties, and the first impression that Leon got was a whole lot of whole lot of gray.

...No. Silver.

The man who'd stepped out of the pet shop was goddamn silver. Not the shiny, clean silver like overpriced jewelry, but the grayish white you see the sky turns on a thinly overcast day. The man even had silver hair, and wore a whole lot of white. But it was a dead, grayish white. God, that entire get-up must have cost the man a small fortune. It was almost ghost like.

He peered at Leon over the rims of his glass and then the box sticking out of his jacket.

"Chocolates." He said, sounding a little amused and a whole lot patronizing. "How very quaint, and... traditional."

Leon scowled, tucking them back into his jacket and out of sight. The gray man was carrying a small cage with a red cloth over it. Something inside of it crooed.

"Did you just buy something from this shop?" Leon asked, suddenly feeling rather concerned. D's patrons had a tendency to turn up dead.

"Why yes, but the terms of the contract dictate that I am not to show the pet to someone else."

"Ah... good. Great." Leon yammered on. "Look, that contract? Just be sure to follow it all the way through. I've ah... dealt with those who haven't. They're not really the most satisfied customers in the world."

The gray man nodded. "I'm an old customer," he said tranquilly, looking at Leon with increasing distaste. "I know better than to break one of His Excellency's contracts. Though thank you for your concern. Good day to you."

Before Leon could keep him any longer, the man stepped out from the door completely and into the rain.

Funny, Leon thought, watching the man go. He doesn't seem to be getting wet.

---

Descending the stairs into the shop, Leon wiped his muddy shoes off on the mat at the bottom.

"Hey D-D!" He called cheerfully. No answer. "Count?" He called again, feeling a little put off. He looked around. Various animals squawked, growled, or groaned. That ankle-biting sheeptiger Tet-chan, was nowhere to be found either. Nor was the batrabbit Q-Chan.

"Chris?" He called for his brother, wondering just what was going on. No answer.

He moved slowly, holding the small box close to his chest. Was anyone here? The door was unlocked, and a customer had just left, so D had to be somewhere.

Had something happened? Leon frowned, feeling a slight swell of anxiety in his chest. "Count?" He called a little more loudly. No reply.

But he was relieved when he heard the muffled sound of voices coming from behind a door.

Leon pressed his ear to the door, just to make sure he wasn't going to be walking in on anything, and recognized D's, and Chris's voices. They were slightly raised as if they were having a heated argument. Funny... his little brother never argued with D.

"I understand your concern Christopher Orcot," D said, and Leon winced. He never called Chris that unless he was scolding him. "But I cannot abide you, Tet-chan, Pon-chan and especially you Trilochana, going near that man. He is capable of terrible things, and while I am equipped to deal with him, you most certainly are not."

"He seemed really friendly though." Chris protested. Chris's voice sounded much fainter, but that's how it was when he spoke without words.

"He's very good at seeming." D retorted sharply. "Now go get some hot water. Trilochana's back is hurting her again."

There was a 'hmph', and the sound of feet hurrying away, and then a groan. It sounded like the voice Leon had heard the other day calling the Count 'D-D'.

There was a heavy sigh, the creak of furniture.

"I hate that man." He heard D say. "I know Grandfather approves of him, and his methods. But I hate him."

There was a melodious cooing noise from whatever was in the room. "I believe D-D when he says the man in white is not good."

Silence. And then D spoke again. "I hate to force this on you, but make sure that Chris and the others keep their distance when he comes here again. Don't look at me like that, I know he'll be back. After all, who else is going to supply him with his little killing machines to bait the Bureau?" He gave a bitter laugh, and Leon's blood ran cold. He was providing animals to bait the Feds?

"He must have been furious when I left Japan. He knows I don't want anything to do with him and still he pursues this shop." He made a little noise of frustration, and Leon wondered if D was actually being threatened.

Don't jump to conclusions, Orcot. You don't want to arrest D yet. And the reasoning part of his brain asked him 'Why not?'

He ignored it.

"I'll protect the nesteggs," said the sing-song voice. It must have been some kind of bird if it was talking about nests and eggs. "And I shall watch over great nestwing D-D." It added enthusiastically. So D was a great nestwing, hm? He grinned, noting to tease D about it, and then he remembered he did not want D knowing he was listening at his door. Nope. Nuh-uh. No way.

Leon stepped away from the door. Okay, D was possibly being threatened by some man in white. More than likely the man Leon had run into on his way to the shop. And that man could be assumed to be buying monstrosities from D to bait people from the FBI. Great. And he thought that this vampire-wannabe running around the city was weird shit.

Probably some pizza-faced goth kid taking his Anne Rice obsession a wee bit too far. But a Fed killer? Holy Hopping Christ on a cracker, that was bad news right there.

Leon moved a little ways from the door, and got to looking distracted like he hadn't heard anything, honest, and called for D again.

After a few seconds, Count D slipped out the door. He looked calm and composed as ever, but the way his brow was just a little furrowed Leon could tell he was feeling a little weary.

"Hey," Leon waved brightly. "I thought you weren't here. Or something bad might have happened 'cuz the door was unlocked." Well it wasn't a lie exactly. It just wasn't the whole truth.

D gave one of his little patronizing smiles, and Leon cringed. "Oh, Mr. Detective! Were you worried about little old me?"

"Of course not." Leon snapped. "Here. Now shaddup."

He thrust the sodden box of chocolates at D, feeling a little annoyed with himself because he had been worried.

Just a teensy, weensy bit.

"Detective, what am I going to do with a wet box of..." D cut himself off as he saw the label, and took them with a squeal of delight. "Truffles! Oh my dear Detective, how ever did you know? They're my favourite!"

He led Leon into the back room where he set the chocolates down on the coffee table. There was a very old vase with a huge bouquet of red roses in it. Leon recognized them as Queen Elizabeths, as the same kind had been left at the crime scenes in the 'vampire' case. He knew they must cost a fortune, but he never knew D to be the flower type unless he was actually planting something. The Count didn't bode well with plants that had been cut from their roots.

"Gotta secret admirer?" Leon asked, indicating the roses. Red roses meant 'passion' or in Leon's opinion, more accurately meant 'Me. In your pants. Now.' (Or in D's case, dress). That much Leon knew from his days of trying to woo chicks with flowers.

D had tensed just a little outside the door to the kitchen. Leon could occasionally see Chris going by carrying buckets from the sink with steam coming off the top.

"No." Said the Count. "They were a gift from a customer. Someone I hadn't seen in a while."

"You mean the guy who was just leaving?" Leon asked. D gave him a look. "I stopped him to warn him that he should stick to the contract," Leon said hastily, and D just rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me in that tone of voice!" Leon huffed. "You know what happens when customers here break their contracts. He just said he knew you. That's all."

D gave a resigned sigh, and nodded. "Yes, Mr. Kazutaka is a very old customer. He's been purchasing animals from me for quite sometime, and he's friendly with my Grandfather. I cannot say I am fond of the man."

Leon felt himself grinning. He didn't know why. "What did you sell him? A man-eating chipmunk?"

"A three-eyed cockatoo." D said easily. "If that's all for now, I'd like to make tea. Chris, that's enough water to float a ship! Goodness, what am I going to do with you? Go see your brother. And take Tet-chan and Pon-chan with you. I need you out of the kitchen to make tea what with all these buckets everywhere! Honestly, I can't even trust you to bring hot water to a nesting Siren."

Chris trudged out of the kitchen looking rubbed the wrong way. He had that raccoon in one arm, a bucket in the other and that sheeptiger was following him looking equally dreary.

"Hey, lemme help you with that," Leon said, taking the bucket from his relieved younger brother.

"Thanks," Chris said without words, hugging Pon-chan in both arms now.

"How ya been?" Leon asked, ruffling Chris's hair.

"Good," Chris grinned, giving Pon-chan an extra hug. He lowered his voice to a whisper, looking hastily at the kitchen door. "He's been in a really bad mood since the Siren came here. She's really grouchy too. And that guy who brought him flowers made him even more grumpy. Which is weird, 'cuz the guy told me he was a really old friend. I thought the Count'd be happy to see old friends."

Leon took this in as best he could.

"Why's he got a grouchy Siren? ...Wait... aren't they some sort of critter from that story, about that guy who was in a war and took like, ten years to sail home?" His face creased as he remembered vaguely the footnotes he read for the Odyssey way back in high school. "Don't those things lure people to their death!" He nearly shouted, rising from his seat.

"I don't think Trilochana has ever lured anyone to their death. I mean, it's impossible not to listen to her when she sings, but she's usually just complaining that her back hurts and her ankles are swollen. Or her pillow's too lumpy. Or it's too soft. Or-"

"Sounds like she's pregnant," Leon said, rolling his eyes. He remembered when their mom had been pregnant with Chris. God, that had been an ordeal.

Chris nodded enthusiastically. "The Count says she's going to lay an egg soon. He cleaned a room out for her so he's close by when it happens."

"Cool. Baby animals. Great." Leon rolled his eyes, and he was about to press Chris for more information about this Kazutaka guy when Count D came back in carrying a tea tray.

"Glad to see you're taking an interest in the animals," D said, setting the tray down. "Trilochana is, quite frankly, a handful."

As D poured the steaming tea into two fine china cups he peered up at Leon and gawked.

"You're drenched!"

"You noticed." Leon said flatly, taking his cup.

"Not on my sofa, not on my sofa! Up up up! I'm getting you a towel. Christopher, get your slovenly brother a change of clothes. There's bound to be something in the hall closet that will fit him. I SAID NOT ON MY SOFA, YOU BRUTE!"

Leon got up hastily, looking a little guilty. The Count must be really distracted if it took him that long to notice I'm soaked. A pregnant bird-lady can't be all that distracting. Not for this guy anyway. It's gotta be something else...

---

The clothes fit. Leon was loathe to admit it but they fit. Thank god they weren't one of those funny dress things the Count always wore, but goddammit, Leon Orcot was an all-American man. Chinese attire, no matter how black, and how cool the dragon down the front was, well... it was not made for someone like Leon Orcot.

But it was dry, and it stopped the Count from fussing if he so much as tried to touch something. His clothes were hanging over the sink in the kitchen, and he could just hear the faint drip-dripping noises.

"So what brings you to my humble little abode today, Detective? You certainly never indulge me in something like..." He delicately picked up a creamy white truffle with flecks of brown between a thumb and index finger and surveyed it, relishing it's simple elegance, "...white chocolate truffle with..." he took a bite and very nearly moaned. Leon cringed. Sure he had tried a free sample and it had been like an orgasm on his tastebuds and... okay well, maybe D was entitled to making those noises, because Leon almost had too and he wasn't even the biggest fan of chocolate, but not in front of Chris for crying out loud!

"...mmm," the Count damn well purred, "Dark chocolate mousse filling. Delicious. You must have a very... troublesome... case on your hands." He took a sip of his tea, washing down the chocolate. Chris was staring at the box in awe and the Count noticed.

"Chistopher, do have one. And take one for Pon-chan and Trilochana. And give Trilochana hers last, or she'll take all of them, the greedy little thing."

Chris thanked the Count, taking three of the truffles and running off to go share with the raccoon.

Leon gave D a grateful smile. He hated talking about work with his brother in hearing range.

"Don't really have much of anything going besides some guy who thinks he's a vampire. You see the headlines? Some bastard let it leak to the press."

D nodded. "I heard about it. They're calling it the Count Dracula case."

"Hey D, does-"

"The 'D' does not stand for 'Dracula' and I do not drink blood. You know very well I'm a vegetarian, Mr. Detective. And I haven't sold any pets that would behave in a matter of leaving two puncture marks on the neck and draining all the blood in the body. All my Norwegian Green Vampire bats are accounted for."

"Oh." Leon managed, rather surprised. "Well, that clears that up, I geuss."

"Is the case bothering you?" D asked casually, eating another truffle.

Leon waited for the moans to subside before he answered. "Not really. Just the press it's getting and the panic it causes."

"It is their first amendment right, you know." D reasoned, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Yeah, they should make an amendment saying something along the lines of 'not during the investigation so you can warn the perp and he can run off to Mexico or Canada or whatever,' and-"

D raised a finger, and Leon quieted and sat back against a rather squishy cushion. "If I may Detective, I will say I completely agree. But that is the law and as long as it's the way it is, you must work within it's confines."

"Yeah, but... yeah. Guess so. It's just frustrating, 'cuz it fucks with the evidence and they're noisy and I just don't like 'em."

"If it gives you any comfort, neither do I. And watch your language. Really, you wouldn't be half the slob that you are if someone had washed your mouth out with soap."

They sat in silence for a while. It was a pleasant sort of silence, one of the rare kinds Leon found he didn't need to fill with idle chatter. He could sit. And think.

"Hey Count," Leon said tentatively, breaking the silence.

"Yes Detective?" D replied, licking some truffle off of his fingers.

"You mentioned you have some sort of Greek bird that's preggers here. Is that what called you D-D the other day?"

The Count gave an exasperated sigh and set down his tea cup on its saucer. The fine china made a sharp little clinking noise and he just sort of glared at Leon.

"Mr. Detective, I put up with Trilochana's nonsense because she is pregnant, and pregnant Sirens are prone to being violent. I would not be keeping her in the shop at all if the deadbeat for a father hadn't run off somewhere. For the sake of my sanity, I will ask that you do not mimic her less-than-savory little quirks or I shall throw you both out into the streets."

Leon grinned. "So you do have a Greek bird that's preggers and calls you D-D."

Count D gave him a withering look, but threw his arms into the air in defeat. "I suppose you want to see for yourself."

"Cool!" Said Leon, because he was just going to ask if he could. He actually kinda-sorta knew what Sirens were, so it would definitely be cool to see one pregnant.

---

It wasn't nearly as cool as he had been expecting. Sure, like everything in D's little pet shop the Siren was a fantastic creature, but not nearly as interesting as the unicorn thing that D called a Kirin. But definitely more interesting than say, a rabid, ankle-biting sheeptiger.

She just sort of lay there with interchangeable groans, complaints about her back hurting, or demands for chocolates. She was really starting to remind him of his mom when she was pregnant with Chris. If only she started asking for pickles, a pint of Chubby Hubby ice cream and black coffee instead of chocolate...

"When's she due?" He asked, just to make conversation as he helped D fluff a few cushions.

"When she starts building a nest. It shouldn't be long since this it's been two summers since she took her first mate."

Leon took a moment to comprehend D's unusual ways of wording things. "You're telling me she's been pregnant for two years?"

"Sirens incubate the egg internally for two years, and the males for another six months externally." D explained.

"Awful long time to deal with morning sickness and weird cravings," Leon murmured, remembering his mother again.

"If her mate hadn't run off, she'd have found a cave to roost in. But as the situation stands, she's the only one who can be with her egg when it's laid. So, she sought out someone who could help her, and now I have the wonderful task of keeping her fed and sheltered until it hatches." The way D said 'wonderful' made Leon believe he actually meant 'positively frustrating', and shot Trilochana a thumbs up when D's back was turned. She just clucked at him and shut her eyes. Anything that made D annoyed enough to loose his cool, calm, I-know-more-than-you-do composure was a-okay in his book.

D shot Leon a look. "I saw that."

Leon pretended to be innocent. "Saw what?"

"I hope you know, in Greece, thumbs up traditionally means 'kill'." D said with a thin smile.

Leon took one look at those large, curved talons on her feet, remembered Jurassic Park, and quickly amended his previous gesture with a thumbs down.

The Siren simply looked confused and grumpy, and went back to sleep.

"But since she's a Siren she has no idea what either one means." D added, smug as ever.

It was Leon's turn to glower.

---

Jill was working at her desk on this vampire case. What sort of weird fuck kills people and drains all the blood out their body?

Maybe some nut job from one of those Red Cross blood drives...

Two girls. Early twenties. Puncture marks, red roses, and notes promising a million roses when next they meet. Jill wondered if this guy (or chick) was trying to set up a harem in the afterlife? Creepy.

Forensics had picked up silver hairs and fibers from a white designer coat costing more money than Jill had ever seen in her entire life. It was going to take a while to get the DNA data back to the precinct, but Jill was already making a picture in her mind. Rich, Caucasian male, in his late fifties to mid-sixties, good health, a thing for Anne Rice.

Right.

She sighed, taking a long drought from lukewarm coffee that had been sitting on her desk for the past two hours, and gagged.

Gingerbread latte tasted good when hot. But only when hot.

"Hey Greg!" Jill batted her eyes at a junior officer who was thumbing through a folder. He looked up and immediately went a little pink in the cheeks.

"H-hey, Jill!" He managed, though ended up dropping the folder when he tried to wave. "Ah!"

"Hey, I'll take care of that for ya," She said, getting up and gathering the papers. "Could you run to the coffee shop down the street and grab me something caffeinated with chocolate, sugar and whipped cream thrown into the mix?" She handed him a twenty and grinned. "Get something for yourself too. You look dead on your feet." Poor kid was probably working overtime again. You had to keep an eye on those rookies, and Greg was a nice kid, shaping up to be a decent officer though he was a little absentminded.

---

Greg put Jill's change in his breast pocket to keep it from getting mixed up with his own money before he took his coffee from the cardboard holder and took a sip. God that was good, especially in the cold rain. Hurrying towards the station, he didn't notice when the beast sprung from the alley.

He couldn't tell what kind of animal it was. There was just a lot of fur and claws and teeth. Something caught him in the stomach, and he felt numb. Then, everything went black. Then nothing.

Gregory Miles disappeared.

---

End of Chapter 2

---

A/N: Ho ho, a quick chapter 2. Ho crap it felt good to get that out of my system, especially with all the stress of exams. ManscreamsanddieslikeWTFOMG.

Still, shit is getting' DONE. Which is definitely a good thing, because I have a lot of shit to do and codsarnit, I need caffeine not alcohol shakes fist at Liz for bringing like, a bajillion bottles of really good liquor that is way too hard for lightweights of the likes of Keely, Kerri-Bear and I!

So yeah! Chapter two!

To pass the broccolini: Normalcy and Normal are actually both correct. I believe that 'normalcy' was a word made up by either President Wilson or Harding with regards to how things should be returning to after the first World War. I haven't cracked an American history text in a while so I could be wrong, but I know it was made up by one of the Presidents.

C&C Welcome. You know the drill.