A/N: Day 10: Stand Swap

Warnings for canon-typical violence (nothing too graphically described) and gallows humor.

This must be the work of an enemy stand.

That's the only explanation that makes any sense – or, at least, it's the only explanation Buccellati's ringing head can come up with as he hits the ground hard. Moody Blues doesn't have the speed that Sticky Fingers does. Which wouldn't be a problem but – Buccellati isn't used to it – he should get up –

The enemy poised to attack him collapses.

Dissolves into tiny, zipped up pieces, and Buccellati pauses in scrambling to his feet to stare.

"Holy fuck." Abbacchio stands in the wake of this spectacular mess, fist still raised. Sticky Fingers hovers next to him, mirroring the pose. "How the fuck did…"

Slower and more careful, now that immediate danger has passed, Buccellati totters to standing. He's still in control of Moody Blues, which means the unfortunate pieces on the ground aren't the remains of the enemy with the stand-swapping stand.

This is bizarre. Moody Blues waits faithful at Buccellati's elbow, familiar yet not, settled weird in his soul. It feels wrong, though he isn't sure how he can feel it in the first place.

Abbacchio's wide-eyed gawk at the pile of zipped apart enemy is…kind of adorable. But now really isn't the time to be thinking about that.

"You hit too much, and too hard," Buccellati explains. Trying to ignore how that show of brute strength makes his stomach swoop because now isn't the time. "If our stands are still switched, there must be another enemy nearby – be on your guard."

Abbacchio gives a grunt of acknowledgement, still frowning at his fist and the mess it caused. "Should I…fix him?"

"Leave him." Shaking off the residual soreness of hitting the ground, Buccellati strides further into the warehouse. "They're trying to disorient us. We need to get our stands switched back." Because this isn't bad, but it's –

"Yeah, this is weird as hell," Abbacchio grumbles as he follows. "But Sticky Fingers isn't so bad."

For some reason, Buccellati fights the urge to roll his eyes at that. Of course Sticky Fingers 'isn't so bad'. He's a very practical, useful stand, thank you very much, even when wielded heavy-handedly like Abbacchio did. "Yes, he's great, that's why I want him back."

So close that he's practically stepping on Buccellati's shoes, Abbacchio snorts. "You have a problem with Moody Blues?"

"None at all, if he were –" The hairs on the back of Buccellati's neck stand on end, and he whirls around, summoning his stand to lash out –

Only for Abbacchio to beat him to the punch again. Quite literally.

Sticky Fingers is oddly quiet as it lets loose a series of rapid-fire hits that leave their ambusher in fewer pieces this time.

"Huh." Abbacchio toes at one of the chunks. "I think I'm getting the hang of this."

This time, Buccellati actually does roll his eyes. Even Sticky Fingers seems to be enjoying himself, looks like he's almost smiling, the traitor, while Moody Blues lets out a mournful sort of whir. The sound sends a sad twinge through Buccellati's stomach.

"You can't zip every enemy apart, Abbacchio," he lectures as he crouches by the man's gasping head, so he can lift it by the hair. "We could use someone to question, but now he's –"

Panicked yelling too incoherent to follow interrupts Buccellati and he frowns at the enemy's head, holding it out to Abbacchio. Sticky Fingers dutifully zips the mouth shut, muffling the frenzied cries. Silence restored, Buccellati continues.

"Now he's in shock, because he has no idea why he's in pieces. We won't get anything out of him before he dies."

"I can try putting him back together," Abbacchio offers.

It's too little too late, though, because the man in pieces gasps his last.

Buccellati raises an eyebrow and drops the head. "Next time, let me." Then he stands up, turns on his heel, and continues toward the back office of the warehouse. It's the most likely hiding place among countless hiding places. They should be more careful from here on out…

"You're too slow."

Rude. That's not at all Buccellati's fault. "It's Moody Blues who's slow."

"Don't blame my stand!" Abbacchio picks up his pace until he's standing next to Buccellati, an impressive unimpressed scowl on his face. "Try kicking, Moody Blues likes kicking. It's faster than his punches for some reason."

And so, the second there's movement at the corner of Buccellati's eye, he summons Moody Blues to lash out with a kick. It connects, and their enemy lands flat on his back, head cracking off of the concrete floor, and he stays pinned and struggling beneath Moody Blues' foot.

Buccellati blinks. "Wow. You're right."

"Told you."

Moody Blues makes a pleased dial tone noise.

There really isn't time to dwell on how cute that is. Buccellati approaches the man on the ground, crouching just out of reach, and asks, "Who's in charge here?"

The man spits a mouthful of blood out onto the ground in answer. Very helpful.

…If Buccellati had Sticky Fingers, this would go much easier. He has a million and one interrogation techniques that his stand helped him perfect, but there's no time to explain all of the finer points of them to Abbacchio.

Even if he's witnessed some before, Buccellati can't very well turn to him and say, "Please start zipping this man's legs into spirals as slowly as you can," without removing the helpful element of surprise.

So he works with what he has, settles for Moody Blues pressing a foot down harder on the man's chest.

"Where's your boss?"

The man's eyes flick over toward the office, and ah, these guys are awfully predictable. Why they're sticking to one-man ambushes, Buccellati wishes he had more time to puzzle out – these attackers are clearly fodder of some kind.

But the weird weight of Moody Blues in his chest instead of the comfortable presence of Sticky Fingers is unsettling, and it's shaken him into something like a hurry.

"How many of you are stand –"

A loud crack interrupts Buccellati, and the man goes limp, head lolling back.

…Whoops.

Abbacchio's snickers from behind aren't helping, and Buccellati stands back up. Straightens his suit with as much dignity as he can muster. Yes this whole situation is just hilarious isn't it…

"Moody Blues pressed too hard?" Abbacchio guesses.

"Yes." If Buccellati stares too long, those speaker-like eyes almost start to look sad, so he disperses Moody Blues and tries not to feel guilty. "Your stand is overzealous," he says. Much like its user, he doesn't say.

"You're the one controlling him." There's still humor in Abbacchio's voice. It would be downright charming any other time, under any other circumstances, but right now, it grates on Buccellati's nerves. "Speaking of," Abbacchio carries on in absurdly high spirits, "why don't you just let him rewind? He can lead you right to the boss's hiding place."

"I know where they're hiding. That man kept glancing toward the office." So that's where Buccellati is headed, now, with Abbacchio following along.

"Isn't that too obvious?"

Probably, but: "The rest of their fight hasn't exactly been smart or strategic."

"Except for swapping our stands," Abbacchio helpfully points out, and yeah, there is that fun little detail.

Buccellati can't deny the sheer level of disorientation that brought on. Trying to ignore it or act natural about it only makes the odd presence in his soul stand out all the more. It's not the worst thing that could happen, though. At least Moody Blues has the strength to kick down the office door to reveal –

Nothing.

Buccellati stares. So much for plan A.

He could've sworn…there should be something here…

"Why don't you let Moody Blues figure out where they went?"

Frowning, Buccellati clenches his teeth. Turns to the stand beside him. It's still hanging around. In a way, this feels like when he first got Sticky Fingers. Only this is worse, because Sticky Fingers was a part of him, something that Buccellati was in tune to from the get-go, whereas Moody Blues…

Is an uncooperative piece of Abbacchio.

"Why don't you have Sticky Fingers search for secret passages?"

"That could take forever."

See? Uncooperative.

Abbacchio does have a point, though. The easier, quicker (not to mention safer, given how enthusiastic Sticky Fingers has gotten under Abbacchio's tutelage) route would be to have Moody Blues check the room via its replay, and indeed, if Abbacchio still had his own stand, Buccellati would ask him to do so before anything else.

"Fine." Problem is, when it comes to using Moody Blues' actual ability…Buccellati isn't quite sure…how to. The thought of it makes him nervous, which is the strangest part of this whole situation. Using Sticky Fingers never feels like this. "…How do you work him?"

Moody Blues makes a series of unhelpful dial tone sounds while staring into Buccellati's eyes. This is followed up by some whirring and clicking and head tilting, but not much else.

"You just do," Abbacchio supplies with a shrug, equally as unhelpful as his stand. "You're upsetting him, pressuring him like that."

Oh, so that's what this odd feeling in the pit of his stomach is. Buccellati frowns. If Moody Blues had a mouth, he imagines the stand would be frowning, too.

"It's like…rewinding a VHS tape."

"…A VHS?"

Abbacchio groans, short and frustrated. "I can't explain it," he grouches, gesturing at Moody Blues. "Just do it – stand powers are inherent."

"My stand powers are," Buccellati mutters under his breath, but gets back to staring down Moody Blues anyway. The stand does look upset, the longer Buccellati watches him. But no rewind starts, no matter how hard Buccellati wills it or how much he concentrates.

This is a time-sensitive thing – their enemy could be getting away –

"Arri."

Buccellati jolts a little, at the way Sticky Fingers appears out of nowhere and approaches Moody Blues. Abbacchio seems just as shocked by this turn of events, and he's the one supposedly in control of Sticky Fingers right now.

Sticky Fingers is acting on his own, though, apparently. Stops to stand right in front of Moody Blues and places his palms on either side of Moody Blues' face. The feeling is shadowed on Buccellati's own cheeks, which is. Weird. But not at all bad.

"Arri," Sticky Fingers says, again – softer, this time.

Some type of melodic noise that Buccellati's never heard Moody Blues make before follows in response, and his chest feels…warm. Calmer, despite the tension that was wound there before.

The counter on Moody Blues' forehead starts to tick backwards, and Sticky Fingers is definitely smiling this time, as he backs away and fades out.

"Jeez," Abbacchio grumbles, glaring into the corner, his cheeks pink. "Making me look bad, always so sensitive…"

A/N: When I saw anime Moody Blues for the first time, I was overwhelmed by the amount of phone noises it made, bc I'd always imagined it'd just sound like a VCR,

Thanks for reading!