Notes: I've been made aware that, while the Carabinieri might be involved in an investigation like the one described in this story, it is much more likely that the Polizia di Stato would be in charge of it. My apologies, and thanks to Fabio for explaining the rather convoluted structures of the Italian police to me :-)

Leon was torn between counting himself lucky that his mission was giving him something else to concentrate on and tearing his hair out with frustration at D's behaviour. The whole "Detective, Mr. Orcot, Leon"-confusion was not helping matters. He knew D well enough to know he used those titles as a way to keep people out and away from him, although he had started to doubt at some point in time whether "Detective" was still doing its intended job (did not help that D frequently combined it with phrases like "my dear" or "my darling").

The whole evening so far had been an exercise in trying to figure out what kind of relationship D was currently trying to establish between the two of them, and it was driving Leon mad. Especially the fact that D himself seemed unable to quite decide, and Leon hated the fact that his heart dropped to his knees every single time D chose "Mr. Orcot" instead of "Leon". Especially just now.

Then again, D had always used these kinds of tactics, so Leon should really not be surprised he was employing them now. There was just much less of a pattern to it than there usually was, and he harboured a strong suspicion it was not due to a strategic attempt to confuse Leon even more.

D was rattled. Leon had not expected that that would rattle him so much as well. And it was inconvenient, too, because there were a ton of things they needed to talk about, and the way things were going right now, he had no idea if they were ever going to be able to shake off what felt like a regression into the very early stages of their relationship.

Having his mind run in circles about what the hell D could be trying to do every single time he addressed Leon was also not a great idea given their current occupation. To be fair, they were not doing much. They were leaning against a wall, well, Leon was, D was standing and fanning himself, and they were waiting for the two waitresses around the corner to stop gossiping and get back to doing their job already so they could sneak out into the garden undetected.

Using the servant staircase to get out of the house and into the garden had been a stupid idea, Leon decided. They should simply have gone out the way they had come in, Leon via the fire escape and D via the grand marble staircase.

D had been less than impressed with the suggestion of him confronting the bouncers again, and Leon had given in, not particularly intent on fighting this out on a staircase where they could be discovered any moment.

And now they were stuck at the bottom of said staircase, more correctly in the space under the stairs, with those two stupid waitresses going on and on and on about the women's dresses.

Leon was at the point where he would honestly have preferred being stuck in that wardrobe with D and listening to Spencer Donald having sex.

He looked at his wristwatch and gritted his teeth when he realised that it was getting dangerously close to half past ten. He turned to D to point it out to him, maybe even find out if he had any bright ideas how to get them out of here without being spotted, and found D staring at the wall with an expression on his face that he could not figure out to save his life. D looked – he looked desperate.

Leon opened his mouth and was interrupted by D's whisper.

"Why am I here?"

Leon closed his mouth and blinked. "What?"

D startled and turned to him, as if only now remembering that he was still here, too. His mask had fallen again and he was wearing his blank smile. "Nothing, Mr. Orcot. Please excuse me."

Leon narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, why are you here?"

D shook his head and turned back to continue gazing at the wall. Leon took a step closer. "D. What are you talking about?"

Another slight shake of the head. D crossed his arms as if he was cold. That was unlikely, though. Leon was hot and uncomfortable in his jacket as it was, and D was wearing a few layers of silk. "Why shouldn't you be here?"

D closed his eyes, as if grasping for patience. "I should not be here, because, Mr. Orcot, I have no business being here! And, as it so happens, neither have you!"

Leon stared, taken aback by the words. "This is my job!"

The eyes opened and D sent him a flaming look. "Of course it is. Only that it is not. You are an Interpol agent. You have no business whatsoever planting devices in people's homes, and yet you are! It is exactly like back in Los Angeles. You are always getting yourself in over your head. Always messing with things you have, at best, a vague understanding of, always getting involved with things you should not get involved in."

Leon tensed, hands clenching with the need to grab and shake D, but he managed to keep his voice to a furious whisper. "The hell? I'm always getting in over my head? Who's the one who got kidnapped by terrorists? Who's the one who had a serial killer vampire on his trail? Who's the one who attracted not only the FBI's, but Interpol's attention by selling homicidal pets to anyone who had the misfortune of stepping into your shop at the wrong time?"

D's fists clenched as well as he glared right back. "Neither of us should be here, least of all together! And if you had used your brains for once, we would not have to be here!"

Leon gaped. "If I had used my brains? I? Well, how about you? If you had used your brains, you would've stopped selling your deranged pets ages ago, or at least changed the name of the shop every now and then so people wouldn't know at once that you've turned up yet again! Hell, it's been proven to you time and again that people remember, that they'll find you if you even give them half a chance! So don't tell me it's me who's bound for trouble! Half the time, it's you and that damn shop who land both of us in trouble!"

The mismatched eyes blazed with challenge. "That is exactly what I am talking about, you are not using your brain! The solution to that problem is fairly self-evident, is it not? If you think that I am always getting you into trouble, the best way to avoid it is to stay away from me! But no, you are so insistent on finding me that apparently you cannot be bothered to let go!"

"Because you need a fucking nursemaid, that's why!" He lost the fight, reached out and grabbed D by the shoulders, shaking him. D's hands came up between them, pushing at his chest, trying to put distance between them, but Leon stubbornly hung on. "Because you're completely clueless where modern technology is concerned, and look in which kind of mess it's landed you! You can't be left by yourself, god or not!"

"But not you! You were not supposed to keep looking for me!"

Leon stared at D, whose eyes were a little wild, face half desperate. "Why not? Why would I not keep looking for you? For the first few months, I wasn't even sure if you had survived that fire! Everyone kept telling me you had bitten the bullet, even without a body. Fuck, D, I hardly knew what to believe some days! If it hadn't been for Sam and Chris telling me what they had seen, I might've believed you're actually dead and that I'd hallucinated the whole thing!"

A smile crossed D's lips. It looked bitter. "Yes, your precious hallucinations. They are convenient scapegoats, are they not? After all, they cannot defend themselves."

Leon growled. "That's not the point here!"

"No? Then what is?" D shot back, fire blazing from his eyes now. Leon's throat constricted. He looked beautiful.

"The point is that I might have believed you're dead! You would've let me believe that you're dead!"

D was silent for a moment, a stunned expression crossing his face before he rallied. "Even so, what difference would it have made?"

The anger burnt his insides. "What difference does it make? What difference does it make? Why did you do that to me? Why would you do all of that to me? You just left without a word, even when I fucking turned around and asked you what the matter was. Then you wouldn't let me die after I'd just killed your dad, no, instead you dragged me out of that fucking tower, all the while telling me you'd never forgive humans! Well, just in case you hadn't noticed, I am human, and you saved my life. And then you pushed me off that ship. What the fuck was that for? Couldn't you at least have said goodbye properly? You're the one who's always so big on manners and everything, and you don't even bother saying goodbye? Or, I dunno, sending a fucking postcard from some undisclosed location to say, 'Hello Detective, are you alright? Has that leg healed? Oh, fyi, I'm fine. Still alive. Don't worry 'bout me'."

He stopped and took a deep breath. Then another. He had not noticed that he had barely breathed while getting all of that off his chest. D had averted his eyes, his hands on Leon's chest now limp, not pushing any longer, not trying to get him off. "De- Leon, I understand how my actions may have confused you. Please be assured that was not my intention. I was simply -"

"Simply what?" Leon snapped when he stopped without finishing his sentence. "Simply trying to get rid of me? Then you should've let me die in that tower, D. You fucking know me well enough to know I'd go looking for you! For fuck's sake, you didn't even change your MO! Do you have any idea how easy it was to track you via the Interpol databases?"

"I was not – I hoped you would understand." D's voice was very quiet now, and he was still not meeting Leon's eyes. "You and I, we – it was impossible to continue like that. I thought you would understand when you saw the ship. That you would know I was not dead. I did not mean to leave you in doubt about my – continued existence."

"That still doesn't answer the question of why you left the way you did." Almost unwittingly, Leon also spoke more quietly now. D glanced at him, quickly, then looked at the wall again.

"The – situation between us. I could not let it continue. It was – unhealthy for you."

Leon gawked. "What the fuck? Would you kindly let me decide what's good for me and what isn't?"

D glared at him, his hands curling around Leon's wrists, tugging, yet there was no real strength behind them, and Leon knew he had more than enough. "You know full well what I am talking about. Don't pretend you don't. You are not stupid."

Leon gritted his teeth. "So you weren't comfortable with being friends with me? With Chris and me?"

The hands gripped tighter now. "That is not what I am talking about -"

"What then?"

"- and even if it was," D continued, glaring full force now, "Do you believe, even for one second, that being friends with you would've changed anything?"

Leon resisted the hands trying to push his away. "I sure as hell think it would've! It should've, at the very least!"

"And why is that?" D snapped, clearly at the end of his tether. Leon took a deep breath.

"Because friends don't ditch friends just like that!"

They stared at each other, out of breath, too close for comfort, yet unwilling to move apart. D was opening his mouth, closing it, scrabbling for something to say.

"I cannot be your friend."

Leon reeled back as if D had hit him.

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"My family – what I am – Leon, you must see that it's impossible! Even something as – as innocent as a friendship – it is completely out of the question. It simply cannot be!"

"Why not?" Leon hardly recognised his own voice, it was so pathetic. A whimper more than anything. "It's not as if I'm asking for much, here! I'm not asking you to marry me! I'm just -" He could not finish his sentence. He did not particularly want to lie, and he had even less desire to be called out on lying by D. He was good at that, had always been, and had always ruthlessly used it as a weapon against Leon. He did not know if he would be able to stand that at this particular point in time.

D had closed his eyes, his face a mask of pain. "You are so utterly human, Leon. You talk of friendship, yet you were the one who, after having looked for me for the better part of four years, immediately declared a vendetta against me."

"Fuck's sake, D, you know I say a lot of things when the day's long, and that I don't mean half of them." It came out pleading instead of angry. Another bitter smile flew across that face.

"Indeed, I know that well. Which is part of the reason why I did what I did." The eyelashes fluttered for a moment and the voice dropped in volume. "Although it never was my intention to leave you doubting your sanity, or cause you grief."

Leon stared at him, choking on the words he wanted to say, words he could not say, not when D was like this. Not when he was not even acknowledging that they had been friends in some way. All he managed was a small "D, please …"

"My dear Count, when a man is begging like that, surely he should be rewarded?"

They jumped apart as if burnt, breathing fast and staring at Spencer Donald. He was smirking, his arms crossed. "I'm very sorry having to interrupt at this stage, but you see, my staff was getting rather concerned about the commotion under the stairs."

Leon's eyes fell onto the two waitresses who had kept them from escaping loitering behind Spencer Donald, looking half ashamed, half intrigued. He straightened, brushing his hands over his shirt and jacket, noticing from the corner of his eye that D was doing the same. "Spencer -" he began, and Spencer Donald waved him off with what could only be described as a dismissive gesture. Leon had to keep himself from growling. Nobody dismissed D out of hand. Least of all people like Spencer Donald.

"Count, I really understand things getting – a bit tense in relationships such as yours, but please remember where you are."

Understanding dawned suddenly, and Leon had almost opened his mouth to start yelling when D's foot came down on his and he winced in pain. "I am sorry, Spencer. I know you did offer earlier."

Obviously satisfied, Spencer Donald smiled, his eyes cold. "Well then, I shall see you in a few minutes at the auction."

"Certainly."

The waitresses followed, still glancing back and whispering.

They stayed frozen in place, hardly daring to breathe.

Then Leon's fist hit the wall and he swore colourfully. "Motherfucker!"

D's head whipped around to him. "Leon!"

Leon glared back, unable to contain his rage. "What?"

D looked taken aback, shaken and very much not like he was about to reprimand Leon for his language. After a few more moments of silence, he finally whispered, "It is not like you to use that phrase."

Leon bit his lip and looked away. "I know." He did. He was also pretty sure D had never before heard him use this particular term, regardless of how colourful his vocabulary might be. "I save that one for the ones I really hate."

D started moving and Leon grabbed his arm, turning him around so D looked at him. Of course he did not. He averted his head, much as he had during most of the conversation. "He has no right to talk to you that way."

D looked up, startled, eyes locking on his. Leon held his gaze determinedly. "He doesn't. You're so, so much better than he is -"

"Leon." Suddenly there was a hand on his cheek and Leon could not continue his sentence. D looked immensely pained. "This is the way things work. He sees only what he wants to see, and I have so far not seen any reason to correct him."

"He shouldn't be treating you that way!" Leon insisted. "Why d'you let him believe it?"

D shrugged his shoulders. It looked impossibly elegant and terribly tired. "I am one, Leon. They are many."

"You don't need people like him, D."

The mismatched eyes gazed up at him and Leon felt his throat go tight. "I do. Now apparently more than ever, thanks to your praised technology."

Without knowing he was doing it, Leon reached out and grabbed D's other arm as well. He allowed it, only gazed at him quietly. "I can protect you, D. You know I can. Why d'you think I joined Interpol?"

D closed his eyes for a moment, and Leon had never seen him look so hurt. "I feared that might be the case." The eyes opened again and the hand caressed his cheek for a moment. "We need to go to the auction. Spencer will send someone for us if we don't. He cannot afford a spectacle. Now, please, Leon. Only another half hour and this will be over."

"D, why?"

D looked back at him, a faraway look in his eyes, and Leon shuddered involuntarily. "My dear Detective, you are human, and I am not, and I believe you are well aware of what the phrase 'power imbalance' means."

There was no clock in the room and he was too tired to turn on his cellphone and find out how late it was.

Leon turned over and stared at the small strip of light that managed to sneak through the thick curtains. Working for Interpol had its benefits. The hotels were way above what he had been able to afford during the first few months of looking for D.

He turned around again, shuffling off the blanket. It was too warm. What time was it, anyway?

He had just managed to wrangle his cellphone out of his trouser pocket when the screen suddenly flashed. Leon stared at it for a moment in surprise, only registering that someone was calling him when the ringtone started to echo in the quiet room. He quickly pressed the button. "Hello?"

"Léon. I apologise for interrupting your sleep."

He sat up, suddenly wide awake. "Paolo?" A hand sneaked up, already brushing through his hair. "What's the matter? Why are you calling me?"

The voice betrayed the stress the man was under. "We are on our way to Donald's residence. I thought you might want to join us."

"What? But -"

"We have had a report," Paolo cut him off. "A distress call, to be precise. Enough to warrant storming the property."

Leon was already out of the bed. "I'll be there in ten."

The concierge stared at him in a mixture of outrage and confusion when Leon stormed out, understandably so, because it was shortly past two in the morning. For about ten seconds he considered trying to hail a cab and then decided he was going to be faster on foot. It would have been difficult to miss the right way anyhow, he realised even from two streets away. The bright blue lights were impossible to miss, and several neighbours had found their way to the street, clustering and whispering while policemen were keeping the perimeter.

Leon stopped up and bit his lip, then found his cell. It rang several times, but nobody picked up, so he wandered closer, trying to gauge what was going on. There were several police cars, but what really worried him was the ambulance parked across the street. The doors were closed, but he could make out frantic movements inside. While he was still looking, it slowly started moving, policemen shooing the audience aside to let it pass. Leon took his chance to get closer to one of them. "'Scuse me -"

"Léon!"

Paolo Cocuzzi was striding down the stairs leading to the main entrance, cutting an imposing figure in his fluttering black coat, immaculately dressed despite the late hour. The policeman Leon had just tried to talk to saluted, and he slipped past him easily. Paolo grabbed his hands in a quick gesture, then strode back into the house immediately. "Léon, I am very grateful you came."

"What happened?" They had reached the entrance and started up the big marble staircase. Paolo shook his head, a grim expression on his face.

"I am not at liberty to discuss our source, of course, but … someone … picked up screams originating from this residence. Screams that sounded very much like a person was in great distress."

Their eyes met. "A passing patrol verified that there were, indeed, screams. They called for backup while trying to gain access by ringing the doorbell and calling." Paolo raised his shoulders and hands in a gesture of helpless innocence. "Backup arrived before the residents decided to open the door and let the patrol investigate."

Leon nodded, his expression equally grim. "They must have been close by."

Paolo shrugged one elegant shoulder and smiled. It was the kind of smile that, on D's lips, would have had Leon running for cover. "Rome is a big city with a lot of things going on. We need to be prepared at all times."

They had reached the first landing. Screams that sounded a lot like curses were coming from one of the guest bedrooms. He looked at Paolo. He nodded. "One of the girls hired for 'entertainment'."

Leon's mouth felt dry. "Is she -"

Paolo's face was almost devoid of expression. "She was just taken away in the ambulance. I need you for the study."

They climbed the next flight of stairs in silence. Spencer Donald's voice could be heard already from halfway up. "This is outrageous! I want to speak with your superior!"

Paolo nodded his head in the direction of the study. "You go. I'll take care of Donald and rescue poor Alberto from him."

Spencer Donald cut an impressive figure as well, even only dressed in pyjamas and a morning gown, expression thunderous as he assaulted the Commissario in front of him with threats of legal action and various other repercussions of his actions. Paolo, head held high, strode over determinedly. Leon gave him enough time to draw Spencer Donald's attention before he continued walking in the direction of the study, Alberto coming to his side almost immediately. "Hope you aren't scared of dogs," he whispered. "There are two big ones in the study."

Leon bit his lip. "I think I can handle them." A shiver ran suddenly down his back and instinctively, he turned his head half to catch Spencer Donald staring at him, eyes narrowed and suspicious. Alberto grabbed his arm and pulled him down the corridor more quickly just as Paolo raised his voice. "Signore Donald, we appreciate that you are an American citizen, but this property is not under diplomatic immunity. We have every right to enter by force if there we suspect an Italian citizen may be coming to harm within the house."

Alberto pushed the door open and they were inside the room. Ares and Mars rose, low growls escaping from their throats. Leon stopped as well. Alberto nodded towards the desk while he drew his handgun. "So far they've only growled at us, but we haven't really tried to get to the desk to begin with. Still -"

"This is your chance," Leon finished and took a few more careful, cautious steps, hands held out. "Hi Ares. Hi Mars. Remember me?"

He could not see them, no matter what he tried, and he had tried many times in the past few years. The best he could manage without D around was hearing their voices, and even so, he could not always make out the words. He prayed to God, D or whoever might be listening that the mastiffs would remember him from earlier that evening. Otherwise he might have to call D in to help, and calling D now, after …

▷Count's friend?◁ Ares stopped growling. He seemed confused. His tail, stiff when they entered, lost tension and went down. ▷What are you doing here?◁

At the words, Mars stopped growling as well. Leon took a careful breath. "Leon. My name is Leon. The Count told you that earlier, d'you remember?"

▷Where is the Count? Why isn't he with you? Master is very angry.◁ Ares sounded almost tearful. Leon carefully bent one knee until he was about eye-level with the dogs, then offered one hand. Ares took two steps towards him, his nose stretched out as far as it would go, and sniffed his hand. ▷We haven't done anything wrong, have we?◁

"No," Leon said, not moving. He could feel Alberto behind his back, weapon trained on the big black dog. Sweat was trickling down his back, but he could not blow this chance. "You haven't. The other man has. The one who tried to kick you."

At that, both of them growled again and Leon felt more than heard the click when Alberto readied the gun. ▷What has he done?◁

He suddenly found himself fervently wishing that D was here after all. Regardless of what had been said earlier. "He has hurt a woman very, very badly. But you see, that woman was hired by your master to keep him company. Now I need to check his desk to find out what her name is. Could you please let me pass?"

They hesitated. Leon did not move. "Please. The man needs to be punished. For hurting that woman and for trying to hurt you."

Ares made a sound somewhere between a sneeze and a snort and moved over to the fireplace. ▷Don't make a mess. Master hates mess on his desk.◁

Mars looked between him and Leon, then followed Ares and lay down in front of the fireplace with a thump. Leon closed his eyes and traced his lips with his tongue. They were parched. Then he got up and strode over to the desk. Alberto followed him, gun back in his holster. "Léon, what was that?"

He did not look at his colleague while he opened drawers and stacked papers on top of the desk. "What was what?"

Alberto gestured over to the dogs. "That. You – you can't speak with dogs, can you?"

Leon found a laptop in the third drawer and added it to the pile. "I'm alright with dogs."

Alberto snorted. "That was more than 'alright'. That was amazing. I thought we'd have to shoot them."

Leon looked over at the two dogs now lying on the floor, alert but quiet, their dark eyes following his movements. "No need for that. They're good dogs, just doing their job. It's not their fault who their master is. C'mon now. We've gotta get our hands on as much as we can before his lawyers turn up."