I can hardly believe that it's been six years since I last updated! The story resumes after just one day, though… If you're new to it, it's probably worth starting at Chapter 1. If any of my lovely loyal readers from way back when are still around, I hope this is worth the wait! (it also still very far from being the end!)

Quietly slipping out of Yahiko's door on Monday morning, Konan breathed a sigh that hovered delicately somewhere between relief and regret. It had been a lovely weekend, but it had only been lovely because of constant effort on Konan's part. It hadn't been the relaxed, nostalgic affair she'd wanted and imagined, but then that had been unrealistic, hadn't it? Now was now, and then was then, and you couldn't expect to go back to feeling things the way you did then just by recreating the circumstances. Things had changed.

She closed her eyes and smiled as the pale sunlight hit her face - the air was cool, but there was beginning to be warmth in the sun even this early in the day. She paused there a moment, her hand lingering on the wrought iron gate, then turned and walked briskly in the direction of the tube. She'd go and open up the gallery now, see a few clients and make a few last-minute arrangements for the Akatsuki crowd's annual weekend away. Then she'd drop in on Nagato before lunch even though she'd told Yahiko she wouldn't. She was worried about him and she knew she'd struggle to relax without seeing him. But there was no need for Yahiko to know that. It would only hurt him.

Back in his calm, oak-panelled office at around the same time, Kakuzu could still hardly believe that they seemed to have got away with the events of Saturday night. It hadn't been until the following morning that a very sympathetic Scottish WPC had come to interview them, and her questions had really been very brief. Hidan had been incredibly uncooperative, but Kakuzu thought he had managed to subtly suggest that he was still in shock. It had had to be subtle, or Hidan would have vociferously denied it, but that didn't mean it had to be very subtle. You could slide quite a lot past Hidan, Kakuzu was discovering.

They'd managed to keep it from Sasori, thank goodness, so the journey back had been uneventful, unless you counted Hidan's high spirits giving even Deidara a headache. Hidan, in fact, was so buoyed up by his violent little encounter that he'd managed to secure funding for Deidara's performance piece for the entire month of the festival through what seemed like just blind enthusiasm. That had been on Sunday. Yesterday, Kakuzu reminded himself - already it seemed like longer ago.

Hidan had been bored by the end of the journey, of course. Bored and feeling his bruises and starting to sulk about not being able to 'finish the job' the night before. Kakuzu had needed to be quite stern with him to stop him from being incredibly indiscreet and Hidan had, admittedly, deliberately spilt his coffee in retaliation, but Kakuzu was starting to get used to that sort of thing. It was like water off a duck's back to him now. Hidan, in turn, seemed to be getting used to Kakuzu telling him off. Or maybe it simply sat better with him now that he was also getting regularly fucked by him. It made a certain amount of Hidan-ish sense...

After that it had started to rain quite heavily and by the time they pulled back into King's Cross it was dark and gloomy. Sasori and Deidara had headed off together to get a taxi. Hidan had retrieved his bike from the other end of the train, and then at last they were alone together. They'd looked at each other a moment in silence - and Kakuzu could still feel the loaded nature of that silence just thinking about it now - before he'd managed to say simply, "why don't you come back to mine?"

It had been another stretched-out moment before Hidan had said casually, "alright then," and then, swinging a leg over his bike, "I'll be there before you, man, maybe you should give me your keys?"

"Not a chance," Kakuzu had immediately replied, not missing a beat this time. "And it's not a race, Hidan. Be careful or you're going to get yourself killed."

All he'd got in reply to that was an eye-roll incongruously coupled with a profane gesture before Hidan shot down the platform like a bat out of hell. Kakuzu had headed at a rather more sedate pace down into the underground, and as the familiar warm wind from the tunnels hit his face he'd shivered slightly at the thought of Hidan riding through the rain. Almost immediately, though, he'd felt an answering bzz from his phone. A text. He'd been surprised to still have signal this far in, but eased it out of his pocket and glanced down. 'Waiting at the lights like a good boy. Get home quick its fucking horrible out here x'. His heart had done a little flip at the x, but it was the thought of Hidan obediently doing his bidding that had really got him aroused. He'd quickened his already swift pace…

And now, his mind was on anything but work - he was still seeing Hidan sitting on his steps drenched in rain, looking like a martyred saint, then wet clothes all over the floor of his hall as they'd barely been able to keep off each other for the length of time it took to close the front door; Hidan lounging afterwards in what Kakuzu considered an obscenely deep bath, drinking tea and looking at him speculatively with those violet eyes, his head on one side; Hidan on the bathroom floor after Kakuzu had hauled him out of the water and they'd fucked again, damp and flushed, breathing hard - the images filled Kakuzu's head til he couldn't even pretend to himself that he was working. He had to take the old private view invitation to the bathroom and give himself a few minutes to work it off…

He emerged from the bathroom feeling a little more like his normal self, but still the day seemed to stretch ahead of him, featureless, routine, and long. He picked up the phone and started to dial the number of a collector he was pretty sure would snap up some of his Sarutobis like a shot, but he put it down again before he'd finished. Now didn't feel like quite the right time.

He thought he might write a brief report about the Akatsuki Edinburgh venue to send over to Konan, but it wasn't the best choice of activity for reasons that he should really have thought of - after only a few sentences he was seeing Hidan spread-eagled on the gallery floor, and after mentally editing Deidara out of the picture he was down there with him, ripping off that miraculously unbloodied shirt, unzipping him, Hidan straining up to kiss him like he had on the bathroom floor yesterday, arching his body up against him as if he just wanted every inch of them touching… And then he thought of Hidan waking up in his bed that morning; of just reaching over for him and Hidan hard and ready and wanting him. Hidan slipping down under the covers to take him in his mouth, thrusting against him as he did so, any part of him, it didn't seem to matter.

Kakuzu shook himself out of his reverie and deleted the last sentence he'd typed. It didn't make a lot of sense and it definitely wasn't appropriate for sending to Konan. He decided he'd better give her a call and see if she could meet him for an early lunch. No-one, surely, could possibly be sucked into carnal fantasies in such company. He picked up the phone again.

Konan found her heart was pumping anxiously as she turned in at the gate of Akatsuki's building just off Piccadilly, where Nagato had the penthouse apartment. By the time she was in the lift, her mouth was dry, and she had butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't have explained it, but somehow she had the feeling that Nagato would know she hadn't been in Edinburgh. Maybe he'd had one of the other secretaries watch her and knew she hadn't been on the train. Maybe one of the guys had let slip something about Kakuzu being there, and Nagato had put two and two together. What if Hidan and Kakuzu had been spotted together and photographed? Or just mentioned in some gossip column! Oh, how could she have been so reckless? What would it do to Nagato if he realised she'd deceived him? And what would he then do to Yahiko?

By the time the lift doors opened her knees were shaking. But outwardly, as always, she was all composure. Two of Nagato's other secretaries were waiting in the atrium - she passed them with a gracious nod but no other acknowledgement. She was the only person who could walk in to Nagato unannounced. Perhaps, by now, the only person who could walk in at all. The thought at once made her stomach lurch uncomfortably but also made her feel somehow empowered. She took a calming breath and lifted her head but just as she was about to push open the heavy door, her phone rang. Kakuzu. Perhaps it would be a good idea to speak to him before seeing Nagato. She stepped back a few paces and immediately started feeling better. She decided she'd come back and see him after his afternoon rest.

"Kakuzu!" she exclaimed, picking up the call, and in the oppressive hush even her low voice sounded over loud. She walked swiftly towards the exit. "Yes of course, what a good idea. Perhaps we could meet somewhere in Holborn? That would be easy for both of us as I'm in Piccadilly now."

Kakuzu said that in that case they might as well meet in the British Museum, with a half an idea forming in his mind that he might visit the reading room afterwards - surely the rarefied atmosphere in there could keep his imagination in check for a while? Anyway, he felt better for something to do. He supposed - the thought just came to him as he was shrugging on his jacket and scooping up his keys and phone - that he probably ought to warn Konan about the Asuma incident. Perhaps she should mention to Nagato Pein now that he had been in Edinburgh. She could say that they had unexpectedly bumped into him. It might be wiser in the long run.

Hidan had crawled out of Kakuzu's bed an hour or so after Kakuzu had left for work. Kakuzu had woken him unacceptably early, but he'd had to forgive him when he'd realised what for... He was still smiling every time he thought of the feeling of Kakuzu's cock in his mouth, the taste of him, his hands in his hair; of taking a moment to glance up at him and seeing the normally so in-control Kakuzu utterly in thrall to him... Though, naturally, he had resumed control very shortly afterwards! Hidan was still smiling every time he thought of that, too.

First he headed out to pick up a few things from his flat and then he went to Deidara's studio to discuss a new idea Dei had been formulating over the weekend. That ended up taking a few hours. Now, after a quick lunch, he had a whole afternoon life-drawing workshop scheduled at St Martins. He arrived a little early, and from the excited buzz among the students he could tell that something was up. A few moments of eavesdropping told him exactly what, and perhaps since this was where Asuma did the majority of his teaching it was extremely fortunate that no-one was sure yet who else had been involved. He got out his phone and sent a quick text to Kakuzu before heading into the studio to disrobe.

Kakuzu received it just as he got back into the office after his lunch with Konan. 'have u seen the news ;D x' it said. The news?! Kakuzu brought up the BBC homepage. And there it was. Major UK Artist in Knife Fight. The story had broken. Kakuzu skimmed the article, then began to smile. Then he read it in detail, and checked the other major news sites. The story was everywhere, but he and Hidan were not yet named. Now was the time. Kakuzu picked up the phone and started the process that would sell his Sarutobis.

And by 5 o'clock, he had several potential buyers lined up. The works weren't going to be hard to shift at all now, and what was more, they were commanding excellent prices. It was wonderful what a little notoriety could do…