Alrighty Tyki allen fans! another Redo! Hopefully I can get you another redo before boxingday. If you have already read the non redo, do read the redo! Yeah?
Cool!
ADB SAYS: Humbuggy DOES NOT OWN. *MUMBLE* (slave driver)
KK reader! read on!

Thoughts scattered through Allen's head, incomprehensible, chasing their tails like flashes of lightning, over and under, dissipating like wisps of smoke, rolling around and over and under until he began to mumble, muttering phrases and incomplete words, spilling over his lips in choppy whisper until all he could see were the words that twisted his gut into a thousand butterfly knots. "Black order, jewel of the millennium hotel chain, got to be rich, more than my wages , cheapest room…4000 a night, for the elite only …"

A sunburst of sudden pain exploded above his eyes, waking him from his state of delirious shock "Huh?" went Allen, stupidly.

"Are you okay, sir?" An impeccably polite voice came from somewhere above Allen; he blinked confused, a head wearing horn rimmed glasses and a funny hat was looking down on him. For a moment Allen's thoughts scattered then recollected and he realized that he was lying on a cold marble floor in the quiet lobby of The Black Order Hotel, his fore head throbbing. Allen couldn't remember where, or when, he had banged it.

The porter was still waiting for an answer.

"Uh, Umm, I think so" Allen sat up cautiously, putting a gloved hand to his forehead. "What happened? Did I faint? Please tell me that I didn't faint."

Distain dripped of the man's thin lips. "I believe you walked into a column, sir"

Allen looked up and sure enough there was a large, shiny, black granite column. Feeling stupid and idiotic, he took a closer looked at the man. Dressed in the porter's uniform of the hotel, he looked immaculate, quite unlike, Allen realized, his sweaty travel worn self.

The porter looked Allen up and down, taking in his converses (black), jeans (dark blue, almost black) and long sleeved shirt (black) with the holes in the collar, courtesy of Allen's odd puppy Timcampy. The porter continued, "If you looking for the soup kitchen, it's not here."

Alle felt a sudden wash of black hate that hazed his eyes. He knew what the porter was talking about; Any teen with white hair and a scar the looked like a tattoo "Must" have come from the wrong side of the track. He hated the stereotyping that he was always subjected to in normal society. He hid anger behind a smiling demeanour, letting the polite and gracious mask wash over him even as red heat scorched his face.

"I see, thank you so much for your trouble, truly my dog and I shall be going to our suite now. Please tell your manger that I give my warmest thank you to such an understanding bellboy. You must tell him that you have the manners of the assistants in the expensive Hong Kong shops; the resemblance you have to them is truly remarkable- you must get so many people talking to your boss about you. Please tell your boss all about this exchange of ours, I very sure that you would find yourself with another job soon after." Allen gave a shining smile and swanned off, leaving the porter with the distinct feeling of having been insulted and threatened, but somehow unsure why. The porter glanced about, and decided that the thickset man in the expensive suite was eating his rock-candy too loudly, sending a crushing sound throughout the foyer, and moved over to tell him off.

Allen stopped behind another of the columns, hiding himself from view. It was there that he allowed the blush that had been threatening for a while to completely take over as he brushed the dirt off his jeans and shirt and glanced around for Timcampy. With a sinking feeling he realised what he had just left in the taxi; his bag and everything inside it. Allen froze, Timcampy. Oh crap.
White faced, he cast about the foyer desperately looking for his puppy on the odd chance that Tim had the sense to follow him. He sank to the floor in despair feeling helpless, Timcampy was his only friend. The puppy was the only one who had ever stuck by him; Allen knew that was because he fed him, but still. To think of his odd little puppy in a taxi with his bag and all his painting gear was unbearable. Because he had his back to the granite column and was facing away from the front door he missed a small golden animal pulling a grey sport-bag up the front steps and into the foyer.

"Damn it." Whispered Allen, sinking his face into his hands; he was supposed to find some 'Science division' , Cross was probably out drinking and racking up debts on tight whores, he had basically no money, his bag and all his shit was on a taxi somewhere and oh yes, to top it all off, he lost his dog. Things were just soo not going his way today. Clenching his fists for a second, he stood up.
"First things first. Find this science division, and then find Tim, then my bag. But I should probably check if he's had enough sense to follow me." He clenched his fists again then stood up, raising two fingers to his lips he gave a high pitched whistle that cracked about the room like a whip, he could only be glad that there were only a few people in the foyer but he had a feeling that that porter would be here in a couple of seconds if Tim didn't turn up.

He waited patiently for a couple of seconds, fisting his hands on the edges of his shirt. Footsteps sounded but they were not the clicking sound of Tim's paws but the clack of smart shoes on marble.
Allen began a countdown in his mind. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
"Excuse me."
Blast off.
"Yes?" Said Allen turning and giving a shining smile to the same porter who had 'talked' to him before, "How may I help you, sir"
The porter blinked, but hiding his surprise he continued on in a dry tone, "I will ask you to refrain from wolf-whistling in the Black Order's foyer. If you do it again the management shall have to reprimand you and you may be asked to leave the premises."
Allen continued to smile, "I am terribly sorry, but I seem to have misplaced my dog. I will be going as soon as I have located him." Allen tuned on his heel then spun around again seeming to have an afterthought, "By the way, you do you, perchance, know where I may be able to find the head of the Science Division."
The porter froze, not seeming to believe his ears lifting a hand that trembled like a withered autumn leaf pointing it at Allen, "You are looking for the science division?" his voice shook and his words came out in a stutter.
Allen nodded slowly, survival instincts screaming, "That is correct, yes."
"I, I... You're mad do you know that? Mad!" Shouted the porter suddenly, " Looking for-for that man! Mad I tell you! Utterly cracked! Crazy, loony! Mad!" the porter began to cackle, giant whooping laughs but his eyes were wide and unseeing. "It's That way! The black door! But mad, you are mad aren't you? You're as bad as the rest of them. There something not quite right with you isn't there? Because you're mad! Cracked, crazy maaaadddd... You – you stay away from me. Stay away I tell you! You're as bad as them. Crazy! wild! Mad! You're madder than a hatter! Madder- cracked crazy Touched in the head!"
Allen retreated hurriedly as the porter began to laugh and laugh and laugh, suddenly accusing and then feral eyed again. Allen glanced around wildly, looking for an escape as the porter continued to advance. What could be so terrible that the porter would be reduced to a gibbering shouting animal?
"Look! I just need to find my dog and then I'll be gone okay? And you will never have to talk about 'that place' again, ok? I just need to find my dog, and then, and then I'll leave. Just have you seen my dog?"

The man calmed down rapidly, snapping back to his normal (?) self incredibly fast. His feral eyes calmed down within the horn-rimmed glass frames, the hat, although perched at a strange angle was no longer being wrung like a handkerchief. The man pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted his hat.
"I do believe there is a dog over there, perhaps it fits the description of the creature that you are looking for?" His paper dry tones belied any sarcasm as the porter looked pointedly at a small golden puppy galumphing up and down the lobby hall, jumping on furniture and barging through and over luggage, pots and people. Allen spun around, hope painted on his face with a silver gleam. "Timcampy" whispered Allen elatedly as he set eyes on his golden puppy who chewing on a leather suitcase three times his size.
"Timcampy! Come here boy!" The puppy looked up, his entire face seemed to light up as the puppy laid eyes on his personal pantry. Timcampy, the porter noticed, had an odd marking of a large white cross on his face. The puppy gave the suit case a final bite, completely shredding the leather off, took a running leap, flew gracefully and fell into Allen's outstretched arms. Allen smiled blissfully as he inhaled his pet's almond scent.

A warm glow seemed to envelop the porter as he gazed at the pair. His initial urge to mark them as undesirables and get them out of the hotel as fast as possible paled in the light of the youths eyes. They were silvery and unaccountably soft as the teen whispered endearments into the puppy's ears. Painful pangs came from within the vicinity of his chest and his breath rattled up from his thickened throat. An over-whelming urge swamped Percy Davis (part time porter and full time stick up the arse) to protect the boy; to love him and hold him throughout the cruelness of an uncertain world and dark night. He disliked it immediately; his experiences of love and lust were limited to late night forays into the strange world of internet porn. Still the pangs of something continued on and he coughed into his hand. "Sir, I am afraid that dogs are not allowed on the premises, I am afraid that I will have to ask you to leave him outside."

Allen looked up from Timcampy and put the puppy on the floor, the animal promptly started to attack his shoelaces, giving comical growls and wide eye pants of excitement, burnt paws forgotten. Allen brushed his hair out of his eyes and drew himself up straighter, silver eyes cold and gleaming. It was such a change from before that Percy Davis (part time porter and full time stick up the arse) almost took a step back.
Allen lifted his chin proudly, "I think that you shall find that he and I shall be going, but first I must find out if he brought my bag with him, before finding the science division. Please point out its direction; I have a meeting with its head." Allen chose his words deliberately, tone polite but ice sharp.

The porter went white. Ghost white. Fear white. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He gasped, choking on words, yells, screams. Again he raised a trembling hand, pointing out the way with a finger the jumped and shuddered.

"Thank you" said Allen coolly, his calm exterior gave no hint of the fact that he was mentally screaming in terror. What the HELL had Cross gotten Allen into this time. Unbidden painful memories leapt into being. He quickly banished them and looked down at Tim.

"Let's hope it's not illegal this time, eh Timcampy?" The Puppy looked up adoringly at his self serve buffet and grinned.

"Illegal?" the porter whispered, swayed on his feet, rolled back his eyes and fell in a dead faint on the floor.

"Crap" said Allen, gazing at the swooning porter and around to see if there were any witnesses. "Come on Tim; let's go find this 'science division', at least before the cops get here. I don't particularly want to do anymore time, it gets repetitive after a while. But first..." he knelt and looked Tim straight in the eye, "Tim, did you bring my bag? Get my bag Tim. Get the bag." Tim gave a yawn and plonked his butt down on the floor. Allen, sighed and rooted in his pocket. His fingers grasped the bit of dried liver treat and he pulled it out, waving it invitingly before Tim's nose. The puppy's eyes lit with a greedy light and he licked his chops.
"Come on Tim," Allen cajoled, "get the bag, come on, there's a good boy, get the bag and you get a treat, hmm? Go on, get my bag."
Tim leapt up and raced across the foyer leaping over anything in his way. He returned dragging Allen's grey sports bag. Allen grinned and flicked the dog treat high into the air. "Good dog." He praised and slung the bag onto his shoulder. He slapped his thigh twice as she strode off in the direction of the science division, Tim obligingly falling into step at his heel.

Allen scratched his head as he stared at the black door before him. There was a tiny plaque on it that said 'Science Division' but apart from that there was nothing, there was no handle, there door knob, hell, there wasn't even a thing marked 'Push'. But even if there was a thing marked push, it wouldn't open any way because Allen had tried pushing, and pulling. Feeling a little stupid and more than slightly pissed he decided to give it one last shot before giving it up as a bad job and trying to find another way to get there. Placing the fingers of his right hand on the plaque, he applied a slight pressure and spoke the words "Science division". The Doors slid oped with the hushed whisper of machinery. Allen sucked in a breath and entered the room, he stopped almost immediately

The room was small and about the size of an average elevator or a very large cupboard. No, Allen realized with wide eyes. This was an elevator. Artfully panelled with cherry wood and carvings of boats, this was the most damn fancy lift that Allen had ever been in, infact it was probably the only fancy lift that Allen had ever been in. Glancing around he saw no shagging couples in the corner, no used a discarded syringes, no puddles of blood and it was mercifully free of the smell of piss. It seemed that nothing as too good for the Black Order. Looking for the buttons he was surprised to find only two. One said open/close. The other said In case of Kanda. What the hell was a 'Kanda'? Shrugging, Allen pressed the open/close button and like mechanics, the doors closed with a hushed murmer and the elevator floated upwards.

A small while later, the elevator doors opened into an airy lobby with black furnishings. Timcampy bounded out happily and looked about for leather. There wasn't any. The puppy settled for a chair leg. His owner meanwhile walked nervously to the lobby desk (black). The woman behind it looked up disinterestedly.

"Yes?" She asked, her nasal voice grated against Allen's ears. Allen swallowed nervously, calling saliva into a parched throat.

"Hello, I am here to see the head of the Science division." He tightened his fingers on the strap of his bag.

"And who might you be?" The woman's gaze was distinctly bored as she tapped her long fake nails (pink) on the black granite of the lobby desk.

"My name is Allen Walker, Miss. My Master, Cross told me to come here. He's the one who gave me the instructions. He said he sent a letter."

A spark of interest lit in the receptionist's eyes. "Did you say Cross, like, Cross Marian? The man with the half mask, did you just say him?" her excitement was obvious in her voice; the nasal tones grew more pronounced and high pitched.

"Yes." Said Allen guardedly, his eyes hooded and posture tensed.

"God fuck my sainted soul. We have like half of the order out looking for him" The woman's jaw dropped in amazement.

Allen was instantly angry, this meant one thing and one the only.

"That stupid man!" he seethed, "That idiotic bugger's done something illegal again hasn't he?" Allen's anger was quickly turning to panic. The receptionist was viewing his outburst with increasing astonishment as she watched Allen's hands fly to either side of his head.

"Crap Timcampy, I'm not even there to bail him out again! What the hell am I going to do? Shit, Shit, Shit. "

The puppy looked up from his (now demolished) chair leg, whined and pawed the ground.

"I know," Allen replied to Tim's silent answer. "I know. But I don't even know where he is. This is just typical. I leave him with for a week and he gets arrested. For the Gods sake, he hadn't gotten himself arrested for a month. I was aiming for a record! I bet you a meaty bone Tim, that he got himself arrested for seducing a Sultans entire harem again. Oh Damn him!" He slammed both hands on the desk and hung his head, hair falling over his eyes.

The receptionist curled her lip sardonically and ran a hand through her honey blond hair. "Yeah, that precisely why we want to find him. Crimes against Sultan and for the over seducing of women in Harems." she snorted sarcastically, "No. The real reason that we want to find Cross is that he works here, supposedly, but he took a paid holiday to France and never came back. He still gets paid you know"

Allen shook his head in disagreement at the woman's last statement. Tim squirmed delightedly on the thick, plush carpet, ignoring the exchange between his master and the woman.

Allen raised his head to stare the receptionist in the eye. "No that's not true, He's constantly in debt, so I to find ways to pay it off. If I can't find the money or can't earn enough, we usually start running to the nearest border. The stupid man's wanted in five countries."

The woman raised an eyebrow, "I see. Well, you would know where he is, you're, like, his apprentice-" She broke off as Allen was already shaking his head.

"I can't help you find him; I don't know where he is either. The last time I saw him, he was muttering about finding a bar with a hookah and some decant prostitutes." Allen sighed and ran a hand through his shock of white hair, completely oblivious to the fact that, due to his despair, he was now waist deep in carpet.

"So, that was, like, when he was in like, paki land?" The receptionist tapped a curved talon on her lips.

"Turky," Allen corrected, "He is most likely wanted there to by now."

"Turkey - Paki land, whatevs. I'll buzz you up to Komui now" Briskly pressing a button on the (black) intercom, she spoke into the receiver. "Komui? You there? Yeah, anyways, I have, Like, an Allen Walker here. He says that Cross Marian sent him, oh. Nope, he is definitely human. Looks about, huh? What? He's got a mutt with a white cross on its face so Cross certainly sent him. Oh, okay. Yeah, Sure, Whatever, I'll get on it." Turing the intercom off, she swivelled around to look at Allen who was slowly being regurgitated by the carpet.

"Okay sweetie, Komui's sent someone over, so you can sit over there" she pointed to a large ottoman (black) underneath a display of medieval weapons (the weapons were white). Allen resented being called sweetie. He was not candy and nor was he small. Okay, so maby he was short, but he was still not candy. Allen sighed and sat down on the ottoman, Tim jumping up and joining him, sinking his head into Allen's lap. Allen gave a small smile and began running his hand over the cross on his dog's face. Ten Minutes later a door to the left of the desk opened and in stormed and person wearing black, the standard uniform colour of The Black Order and with a face like thunder.
"Right, I'm here, where the fuck is this new freak? I've other shit that I fucking want to do."

Allen waited patiently for the person to notice him. Whoever this was had a supremely dirty mouth. She? Had long black hair tied in a pony tail, wearing a long black coat that looked like it was directly of the set of matrix and black steel capped combat boots, the very sight of this person annoyed Allen. He was still waiting to be noticed and couldn't work out if the person was a man or a woman.

"Ah, How are you Kanda?" the receptionist fluttered her eyelashes and lent forward a little so the shadows between her breasts deepened. Was the receptionist lesbian? Allen still couldn't work out if this Kanda was a man or woman.

Kanda glared at her. "None of your fucking business, where the bloody fuck is this fucking new freak? I have shit that I want to fucking do."

This Kanda really did have a dirty mouth. He still couldn't work out if Kanda was a woman or a man.

"Kanda, can't you stay for a little longer" The receptionist sounded kind of desperate.

Allen tossed up both choices and checked them for suitability. Man or woman? Woman or man? It seemed that Kanda's next words would determine his/her gender.

Distain poured out of Kanda as he/she glared at the woman now clinging frantically to his/her hand. "Get. Off. Me." Each word was pronounced with the utmost articulacy. Shocked, the receptionist dropped kanda's hand. "How many times do I have to tell you? I. Don't. Love. You. I. Never. Have." Yep. That settled it. Kanda was a man. No doubt about it.

"Kanda, please," she pleaded. She was begging now

"No."

She lunged for Kanda's arm and clung on. "Please Kanda, I love you."

The disdain and anger was now visibly rolling off Kanda. "Piss off, Woman." He growled staring at the whimpering receptionist on his arm with disgust, like she was a plauge carrying rat that he didn't wat to see. The woman pulled herself onto the desk, fingernails scrabbling forward, whimpering like a kicked puppy. Desperate to prove her love, and mindless of what might happen to her if she went too far, she latched a hand around his neck and planted a single desperate kiss onto his lips. The kiss lingered and she pulled away, gazing hopefully into his eyes, as if, by the very force of her undying and single minded love for him, that, by this one act that she had somehow managed to change his mind and cause him to fall hopelessly in love with her. No such luck.

Kanda began to tremble with something that went beyond fury. He gave a low snarl and went for the Katana hanging by side in a single fluid movement, movement fast as lightning, objective – death of the receptionist.
Before Allen had even consciously registered the movement, he had grabbed Kanda's wrist to stop his swing. The sword stopped a centimetre away from the woman's neck. The receptionist broke down sobbing.

"Who the, Fuck, are you?" Kanda glared down at Allen who stared coolly back at him.

"My name is Allen Walker, Komui sent you to get me."

Kanda jerked his arm out of Allen's hold and sheathed his sword. "You're a fucking Moyashi." He observed.

Allen's hackles rose, he had no idea what Moya-wayashi meant but he didn't like it. "And you're a woman with a dirty mouth."

Kanda snarled at him and flexed his fingers. "Fucking Moyashi."

Before Allen could answer in return, a cracking noise issued from above "Kanda! Yoo-Who! You there? Get to my office already, and bring my esca- sorry – And bring Allen Walker with you!"

"Che" muttered Kanda in distain "Come on."

He turned swiftly before heading out the same door that he had come from. Allen frowned and hesitated, but then shrugged. At least he had actually found the place within the day.

He left the receptionist quietly sobbing behind him.

She was fashioning a noose with intercom cord.

Alright! Sweet! Big Shout out to Reddoggie! I wrote the bit about the porter with your comments in mind! Cheers to the people who read this, loved it and faved and reviewed. bigger cheers to the poeple WHO ARE GOING TOO.
I don't beta, so if you see spelling mistakes, Point it out to me! Reviews all around. I usually check out the stories of people who reveiw sooo. Hmm. Keep reading keep reveiwing!