Disclaimer: Gravitation and its characters are the property of Maki Murakami. I make no profit from this other than pleasure.

This is an AU, chapter one caveats still apply. :D

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to put up. I've been hi-jacked by Harry Potter. Almost done with the last book. Hopefully, my real life will then resume.

Tsu (and HC): thanks for the corrections! I've updated the post accordingly. If that's all that slipped past my fuzzy brain, I'll be happy!

Warnings: Hmmm...I think it contains one of the sweeter scenes I've ever written...so...saccharine alert.

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Chapter Ten:
Baby Bird
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"I'm starving," Yuki announced as they slid into the Merc. "Food?"

Shuuichi nodded.

"Preferences?"

Tiny shake of the pink head. "You pick. Please."

"There's an Italian place I'm pretty fond of."

A little sideways glance escaped before he could properly read it. "Sounds...good."

"It's not that far from the NG building. Want to stop and see your friend Hiro? Maybe pick up some of your clothes?" Not that he wasn't cute as a button in his oversized t—

Button?!? He did not just think that!

"Touma said he and Fujisaki weren't really expecting you and would be working on some arrangements. But I told Touma you weren't feeling well. They might be worried. Might make them feel better."

"I..." The soft voice failed, then tried again. "Y–yes, please."

Was that disappointment in his voice? Fuck, what did he expect? That they'd rush right home and jump into bed? Dammitall, he needed food. But first, he'd have a . . . chat . . . with Touma.

✴✴✴

"Hiro?"

That was a voice he didn't expect to hear today.

Hiro pulled the earphones off and sought the source past the glare on the sound-room's window.

"Shu?"

He set the guitar in its stand and hopped off the stool as the door opened and Shuuichi himself appeared in the door. Hiro froze, bit his lip on the chuckle that threatened.

Shuuichi cast his eyes ceilingward. "Go ahead and laugh."

"Yuki-san's?"

Shuuichi nodded and giggled, pulled the oversized tee tight around his skinny waist and lisped: "Think I should just belt it and call it a dress?"

Something in him melted at that giggle, at a tone of voice he hadn't heard in a very long time.

"Feeling better are we, monkey-face?"

The giggle faded; the smile did not. "Yeah, Hiro, we are."

"Good night?"

"Better than you can imagine."

"Seguchi-san said you were still sick."

Shuuichi was silent a moment, then, to the booth's window: "Su-kun, do you mind?"

Another moment of silence, then over the room's speakers: "Of course not, Shindou-san. I'd like a break anyway. I'll lock the door behind me."

Poor long-suffering Suguru. He was probably in the middle of tweaking that last run. And yet, there was something in the tone, in the short silence . . .

"Thank you," Shuuichi said.

"Shindou-san?"

Shuuichi tilted his head. "Yeah?"

"May I say . . . it's good to have you back?"

Hesitant. A bit anxious. A part, yet still apart. Suguru would never, no matter how long they were together, share that which he and Shu shared. Hiro felt a moment's guilt, but Shuuichi just smiled, that friendly open grin only he had.

"Thanks, Su-kun. It's good to be back." The outer door clicked shut, and Shu turned back to him, the grin fading. "Sorry to bug out on you guys today."

Hiro shrugged. "Not a problem. Seguchi-san had some good suggestions that all start with the instrumentals. Suguru and I have been playing around with them. I think you'll like it. A bit . . . softer on Heart Ties. Gentler. I can hear you singing it already."

"Sounds good." But he could tell Shu's head wasn't, for once, on music.

"So . . . What's this about a doctor? You seem okay to me."

"I am, though I was glad to be able to sleep in this morning. It was . . . I . . . we . . . went to get tested."

"Test . . ." Then, as realization dawned. . . . "Oh."

Shuuichi crossed to his stool and perched there, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely interlaced, his gaze level with Hiro's. Level, and calm. "I want you to know, Hiro, I was careful. I made them all use condoms. I told Sakano to put it in the contract. And..." A dark flush dyed his cheeks, but his gaze didn't falter. "...and if it was a lady, I did. Those guys the other night...they didn't listen, didn't hold to the agreement, and I couldn't stop them. Last night, we, Yuki-san and I, I mean, we were going to, but we didn't have any condoms, so I said no, cuz those guys hadn't and I just didn't know, and Yuki-san, he offered to take the test with me, and he asked this morning was there...stuff I preferred, and then picked up the stuff, so even though we both tested clean, we'll have them, just in case, and..."

Shu's increasingly rapid explanation finally ended, as Hiro, bereft of words as the reality of Shu's recent life truly hit, closed the gap that separated them and took his friend into a warm hug.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he murmured.

"Honestly? So'm I." Came a muffled reply.

"Where's Yuki-san now?"

"In with Seguchi-san." A giggle escaped.

"What's that for?"

"He looked . . . funny. Like a cat with a mouse."

"I can't imagine."

"Neither can I, but this morning, he somehow convinced Seguchi-san to make sure those guys who did me got tested. Said we'd have the results by tomorrow."

"Makes sense."

"I dunno. He had that same look when he told me. Like he'd...won."

"Won. Won what?"

Shuuichi shrugged. "I dunno."

✴✴✴

"So, Touma," Eiri began, crossing he legs and tapping out a cigarette. "Did you get Shindou's pack?"

Touma had kept him waiting. Claimed he was on the phone.

Eiri knew better.

Touma gestured gracefully toward the door. "I gave it to Nakano-san."

"Good."

"Don't I get a thank you?"

"Depends. Did you take care of the other little matter?"

Touma's lips tightened, just for an instant. Anger, not humor. But it was fleeting. His control was back, his fake smile in place. "I'll have your answer tomorrow."

"Good." Eiri lit the cigarette and shifted to slip his lighter back in his pocket. Settling back in his chair, he removed the cigarette and relented. "Thank you."

Touma's eyelids almost, but not quite, blinked. "They were, as you can imagine, reluctant."

"Of course."

"They insisted they were . . . clean."

"I'll believe they've showered in the last month. Other than that, I wouldn't take their word for anything."

"I thought as much. I said, for insurance purposes, we required current tests."

"Fine."

"I said we'd send a team to take the samples."

Eiri lifted a brow. "Very good, Touma."

"I'm glad you approve. They didn't."

"Of course. So you reached a compromise?"

"Quite."

"Do I want to know the details."

"Likely not."

"Then I won't ask, so long as you're certain it's their blood."

"It will be." The tiniest of lines appeared between Touma's carefully plucked eyebrows. "Eiri,... I'm concerned about you."

"Don't bother."

"I mean it. I've never seen you champion someone this way. And this boy. He's—"

A flare of anger flickered in his gut. Or perhaps it was just his ulcer. "I don't think either of us is in a position to judge him." He took a long draw on the cigarette, waited for the soothing nicotine to calm the burn. "I've seen just enough to guess he has more integrity in his little finger than the two of us combined. He intrigues me, Touma. Nothing more."

Touma's expression shifted subtly, became far more natural. "One of your muses?"

Eiri just grunted and leaned forward to tap the sagging ashes into the blown-glass ashtray Touma slipped across the desk's polished surface. Touma knew about his muses. Knew and understood. He took the ashtray, a small work of art as the desk was a larger one, back into the chair, which was yet another designer piece.

Money; Touma positively reeked of it. Money and...questionable...taste.

"And you followed him," Touma, who should have known and probably did, continued, "you interfered...why?"

He just wanted to hear Eiri admit it.

"Instinct. The writing was already flying. I needed him. I didn't like what I was seeing."

"Needed."

Damn. Give one to Touma. He'd caught him in a too-revelatory word choice.

"Needed." He conceded.

Touma's brow lifted. "Then . . . I suppose you may have him." He sat back, fingers steepled before him. "Send him back when you're through with him. He's got a CD to cut."

"I'll do that." Eiri stubbed the cigarette out and put the ashtray back on the desk as he stood up.

"And, Eiri."

He paused, hand on the door knob.

"Try to send him back intact, will you? He owes me a lot of money right now."

He kept his face to the door to hide the smile he couldn't prevent.

✴✴✴

The kid stared rather blankly at the menu, and when the waiter showed up, asked Eiri to please order him something good. Eiri, without comment, ordered fettuccini alfredo for Shindou and spaghetti with meatballs for himself. Only when he began to order a bottle of the house red did Shindou speak up:

"Just water for me, thank you."

Eiri smoothly shifted the order to a glass of Merlot, not the house.

"Nakano said you didn't drink," he commented when the waiter left. "Wasn't sure I believed him."

The Liz Taylor eyes slid down to the water glass cradled between his small, rough fingers. "Sometimes I do, but not as a rule."

"Uh, huh," he grunted, not buying the explanation for a moment. "Not even to celebrate?" He'd told Shindou what Touma had said about the assholes. Between that and the clean tests, he had to be feeling pretty confident.

"It's not..." Shuuichi swallowed hard. "The other night, they put that stuff into champagne. I...I don't think I want to look at anything alcoholic for quite a while."

As luck would have it, his Merlot appeared at that moment. Timing: the essence of comedy. Eiri glanced at the wine, then at the kid, who seemed oblivious to the irony. "Should I send this back, then?"

"Huh?" Shuuichi looked up at last. Eiri lifted the glass. "Uh, of course not!"

"Good." He nodded to the waiter, who bowed slightly and slipped away.

He did like this place. It catered to a rather elite clientele and offered discrete, low-lit booths. It also offered some of the best garlic bread in the city, baked in their own brick ovens. He wondered, as he watched Shindou's white teeth nibbling a bit self-consciously at a piece, if the garlic would overpower that impossibly sweet breath at last.

Strawberries. That's what he tasted and smelled like.

And he'd come out of the studio, his backpack slung over one shoulder, munching Pocky. Strawberry Pocky.

Is that your secret? He thought, but didn't ask, reaching instead for his own slice as he watched those eyes flicker about the booth and what of the restaurant was visible.

"Something wrong?" Eiri asked at last, and Shindou's eyes came back to him as the color rose in his face.

"I'm...kind of under-dressed, don't you think?" He'd exited NG in faded jeans, a loose, scoop-necked shirt, and an orange, zip-front hoodie.

Eiri chuckled. "Better than my tee-shirt and women's sweat pants."

That earned him a reluctant little smile. "I guess. But I wish—" He broke off as the salads arrived, and Eiri thought the subject closed, but as soon as the waiter was gone: " . . . I wish you'd said something."

Eiri sighed, feeling the angst quotient rising again.

"You look fine, you idiot. Better than half the people in here, if you'd bothered to look as you came in, rather than staring at the rug. Did you catch the old lady in the orange hat?"

Shindou's mouth twitched. "The one with the dead bird on it?"

"You got it."

That indecently infectious giggle burst out.

Eiri clamped his lips before an answering chuckle escaped and growled: "God, just shut up and eat, will you?"

Shuuichi clamped both hands over his mouth. Even so, it seemed to take an enormous effort to stop. Far too much effort. Hysterics, unless he missed his bet, still hovered beneath the surface.

"Dammit," Eiri said at last, holding out the wine. "Just take a sip."

To protect his investment, he tipped the glass into that luscious mouth rather than letting Shindou hold it. The mellow wine seemed to help and after a handful of deep breaths and half a glass of water, Shuuichi picked up his fork and attacked the Caesar salad, cautiously at first, then with apparent enthusiasm, though he lost more off his fork than made it to his mouth, and he flagged with half the salad still to go, pushing it aside and going back to nibbling the bread.

Something was definitely bothering him.

The entrees arrived, Shuuichi stared at his fettuccini blankly, then eyed the fork, a look of panic rising in his expressive eyes. Yuki laughed and demonstrated. After a weak attempt at an answering laugh, Shuuichi endeavored to copy Yuki's facile manipulation of the spoon and fork. When the fork dropped for the third time from his awkward hold, he laid the spoon quietly down, and drew his hands away from the table and into his lap, softly declaring himself not as hungry as he'd thought.

Suddenly Eiri recalled the kid's stumbling navigation of a simple strawberry shortcake, the escaping salad, and silently berated himself for bringing him to the greatest culinary eating challenge the world had to offer. Fortunately, he'd asked for a private corner booth, which meant continuous bench seating. He slid around to where he was within reach of the kid, pulling his own plate with him, and after checking to make certain none of the other diners was able to see them, he quietly wound two strands of fettuccini neatly around the fork and held it out to Shuuichi.

"Open, brat."

Eyes flickered up at him through the shaggy pink hair, glanced at the fork, then back at him...

And began to fill.

Fuck.

Shuuichi's lower lip began to tremble, and suddenly, he buried his face in his hands and his slight body began to shake with silent tears. Tears that had been forming, Eiri realized somewhat belatedly, since they'd gone into that office for their results.

Feeling more than a bit awkward, he put his arm around Shuuichi's shoulder and held him, saying nothing, and slowly Shuuichi turned to bury his face in Eiri's chest. He could feel the tension in the bony back as Shuuichi tried desperately not to make a noise, tried not to draw attention to them, and suddenly Eiri realized he didn't care.

"It's all right, Shuuichi," he murmured into the soft hair as all sense of awkwardness slipped away. "You're going to be all right."

"S–scared." The tiny whisper escaped his shirt. "I–I was so scared. I thought... we'd just finally made it, don't you see?" And the whispering trickle became a near-silent flood. "The CD was done. We had distribution here in Japan. The tour... And then... I thought, while it was happening, it was punishment for all the things I did."

The waiter came over to see if everything was in order, blinked at the two of them, so closely intertwined, and Eiri shook his head ever so slightly, sending him away. Shuuichi continued, oblivious to the waiter's silent arrival and departure.

"I... I was so afraid I was going to get everything I ever wanted, only to lose it. And then ... you... Oh sweet Buddha, you came, and your kisses..." The pink head tipped back to let swollen eyes squint up at him. "I thought... I thought maybe I'd been forgiven. Given even a second chance. Then... I told myself it meant nothing. That there was no 'we.' I keep telling myself, it's one time. Pretend. A stupid, desperate attempt to pretend all... that... never happened. But it did. And yet, you were still there. You made Touma make those people take blood tests and you took me for the blood tests, never mind you were sure I was clean, and you took the test, too, never mind you hate needles, and then, rather than take me home and fuck me... or even just into the men's room... you brought me here, to this nice place with table cloths and everything, but then...just now, when I was too stupid, too clumsy to use a damn fork... I thought I was being punished all over again. Being made a fool of in front of the one person I want to... Stupid Shuuichi. Clumsy Shuuichi. Can't even feed himself... and just when I wanted to crawl under the table, you... I never imagined anybody... It's so..."

There was only one way to shut this kid up. But personally, he was hungry for more than garlicky saliva. On a whim, he picked up the loaded fork, slid the contents into his own mouth, then, holding it there, bent to kiss Shuuichi, sliding the pasta into his mouth as it opened like a flower in the sunlight, biting half the fettuccini off before it escaped. He pulled back slightly, allowing Shuuichi to chew and swallow, not the least surprised to be rewarded with a whimper and another whisper.

"Why, oh, why, do you have to be so damned perfect?"

He couldn't help but smile at that. "Just lucky I guess." He sobered immediately. Little did he know. "Shit, kid, don't blow it out of proportion. I'm hungry," he said gruffly and began winding up another forkful one-handed. Real men didn't need the silly spoon. "You seem like an all right kid, and I'm pissed as hell at Seguchi for putting you through all that for no reason." He stuffed a larger mouthful in and again shared it with the sweet mouth just centimeters below him. "See?" he said, around the pasta, "I'm no better than the rest. Using you to advance my own interests."

Shuuichi swallowed with an effort and too soon. Coughed and reached for his glass to wash it down. "But—"

"No 'buts,' brat." He sliced one of his own meatballs in half with the fork and offered a chunk to the now-waiting mouth. "I'm no white knight, trust me."

"Mm-mm-mm," Shuuichi hummed around the meatball. "That's good." And blinked up at him. "What's a white—"

"Forget it. I'm no traveling samurai, all right? I saw you on stage, and yes, dammit, I was interested. I'm not usually into men, but I've been known to experiment here and there. When I saw you backstage and twigged to what was going on, I was pissed."

Another shared forkful and a pause while he chewed. "I've a mean, bloodthirsty streak that wants feeding now and again, and those creeps were a convenient target."

The meal gained a rhythm, the kid cuddled against his side, shared mouthfuls on pseudo-kisses, and a line of explanation. Not his style, not his style at all, but damned if it wasn't a pleasant experience, especially when the kid relaxed and curled close, looking up at him. Waiting.

Suddenly, he found himself laughing out loud. Shuuichi pulled away, his face a mix of indignation, embarrassment, and concern.

"What?"

Eiri pulled him back, still chuckling. "You look like a baby bird waiting for its next worm."

"Eeeeeewwwww."

They'd finished the fettuccini and Eiri curled spaghetti covered with good rich northern Italian sauce around his fork and tucked it into his mouth before offering it to his baby bird. Shuuichi's mouth pressed tight. Eiri brushed it suggestively with the tip of his tongue and while Shuuichi might be able to resist the spaghetti, he couldn't resist the tongue. His eyes closed, his mouth opened and Eiri shoved the entire ball of pasta 'worms' into his mouth. When he pulled away, a few strands escaped as Shuuichi tried valiantly to handle the large wad.

Eiri laughed again—damn, when had he ever laughed this much?—and began nipping the escapees, licking the saucy residue from Shuuichi's smooth chin.

As Shuuichi swallowed, Eiri caught his face in both hands and pressed the kiss deeper.

"Kami-sama, little bird," he whispered, between kisses. "What have you done to me?"

✴

Half an hour later, the leftover spaghetti tucked into the fridge, Eiri repeated the question to the little bird lying half naked and sultry-eyed beneath him.

As he had in the restaurant, Shuuichi wrinkled his nose, the only indication he even heard the question, then wrapped both arms around Eiri's neck and pulled himself up into yet another senses-shattering kiss, pressing his bare chest tight to Eiri's.

Well, hell, the question was pretty much rhetorical anyway.

Eiri explored the slim torso with his fingers, lingering over every rib, teasing the navel until a giggle exploded into his mouth and Shuuichi pulled slightly away, evading the tickling assault, while trying to retain his claim on Eiri's mouth. Taking advantage of the momentary space between them, Yuki found and attacked both nipples, twisting, teasing, and Shuuichi screeched, his whole body arched, his head falling back, freeing Eiri's mouth and exposing Shuuichi's neck and chest to that same newly emancipated mouth.

Eiri ran his tongue across the sensitive skin, pressing quick kisses, lingering to tongue the remaining jewels. Shuuichi, true to his word, hoarded each tiny gem that escaped his skin, keeping them in a carved wooden box Yuki had dedicated to the task.

Shuuichi still hadn't a clue they were anything but rhinestones.

Yuki smiled as the largest, that ruby in the center of his forehead, gave way to his invading tongue. He mouthed it, taking it down to the gasping baby bird's beak, easing the jewel inside. Shuuichi came instantly aware and held it between his lips.

"Another for your box," Yuki said softly, and Shuuichi carefully removed the ruby chip from his mouth.

The first sparkling bit thus transferred had been less lucky. It would be several days before that one saw the light of day again...if ever.

Damned if he'd go looking for it.

Shuuichi had grown quite still, staring at the chip. He bit his lips, then slowly wriggled free of Eiri's hold, heading not for the wooden box on the side table, but to Eiri's own mini-valet on the dresser, which housed everything from cufflinks to tie-tacks to loose change. Without a word, he placed the gem carefully into the tiny top drawer and slid it closed. Returning to the bed, he slipped, a bit self-consciously, back into Eiri's embrace, hiding his face against Eiri's chest.

"You remembered," Eiri murmured into the soft hair.

"It's all you asked for," Shuuichi whispered back, his fingers playing with the top button of Eiri's shirt. "Hardly enough to cover my coffee this morning, let alone rent and other food."

"Oh, let's get it assessed before you start feeling guilty."

The hand paused. "A–assessed?"

He tipped Shu's head up to face him. "Unless I'm mistaken, baby-bird, that's a pretty good little ruby."

"R–ruby?" He glanced down at his chest, where the sparkling red aureole-rings remained mostly intact, then over to the small box on the dresser, and finally back to Eiri, his eyes going wide.

Eiri grinned back. "Don't go investing in real estate, but yeah, you'll have a nice bit of pocket change, should you choose to sell them." He let his finger circle the nipple hardening within the ruby ring. "Personally, I think I'd have them set, use them to remind me of the past survived."

Wide eyes blinked and the baby-bird tilt to the head returned. "Set. Into what?"

"Hell if I know. A ring? Maybe a whole set considering how many there are..." Eiri lifted one small hand to his lips, bestowing a kiss to the ragged nails. "But only if you start taking better care of these."

Silence. Then:

"How about an earring?"

He nibbled Shuuichi's virginal ear. "You'd have to get them pierced. Maybe several times. Think you're man enough?"

"Not—" Shuuichi's head fell back as a gasp escaped him, palpably collected himself and whispered: "Not if it's for someone else."

"Idiot." He continued to attack those doomed ears. "I think they'd look great, all sparkly."

"Just..." Gasp. "One." He glanced up to find Shuuichi's heavy-lidded eyes, not on him, but on his left ear—the one bearing a simple platinum continuous hoop. Before he could move, the slender body reared up against him, and a warm, wet mouth attacked the earring.

He gave a gasp of his own that devolved into a groan as electricity shot straight to his groin.

"God, you're not—" Gasp. "A baby—" Gasp. "Bird..." A pause for a real breath as he fell backwards into the pillows. "You're a—" The rest was lost as that warm mouth devoured him.

And as Shuuichi's mouth took possession of him, he began laying plans for those sparkling bits of red and blue and honey-gold.

TBC

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Next: Last Chapter...for now. If Only You Try.

Reviews:

Mia: Aw, I think he's a lot more fun alive. I think Touma's already laying plans. :D

Jackie: Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it.

SS-chan: Love to hear from you whenever. Shu just feels good to write in this. He came out so sweet. Eiri's just got him seriously off-balance. Bad-donkey Eiri. Works for me! And I couldn't possibly ask poor Shu to deal with STDs on top of everything else. Eiri OTOH doesn't deserve to be clean! But then...he doesn't yet know what Shu has in store for him. (Hmmm...but then, neither do I. Double Hmmmmm...)

Misydidi: bits and bobs here and there. A bit more next chapter.

A-E: Whoops! Sorry! OTL Out to Lunch. Usually meaning nuts but in this case, quite literal, as you can see. "Shrink" as in "headshrinker" or psychiatrist/psychologist.

Scorch: I loved the bathroom scene, too...specially the hair. Hehe. And Shu, who always comes out on top, couldn't possibly have HIV...unless he found a miracle cure somewhere.

DIYA: Unfortunately, lots of people still sleep around (particularly hetero males and females) and manage to avoid infection. That's why so many continue to play Russian Roulette with their lives. I didn't say he doesn't deserve to have everything in the book:D But honestly, there's no talk of condoms ever in the manga that I saw, which is what I used for this part of his character. Also, I did try to imply he had (and possibly still has) a bit of a death-wish following the New York Incident.

As for writing style, I love intense third because it lets you slip deeply into a character's head and gut without confining you to it. It's got all the intensity of first without some of the drawbacks.

B-May: I loved it, too. I was really pleased when it suggested itself. (I so love being surprised by my own story!)

Em-chan, Alaine: Thanks!

Zoe: Isn't it fun how he tries to explain away his feelings/reactions. Self-delusion is so convenient to a Yuki-type!

Tsu: I'm such a toad! I'm so behind on my reviews of Doubt! (Bad, Vin, BAD) Blame it on Harry. I can only manage so many involved stories at once. I'm almost done, though! As for this story, you've truly nailed it. Eiri is just plain cute. I have no idea why it turned out that way, but I have a ball writing it. Your analysis is, as usual, dead on. I have to wonder, when he has time to look back on this week, just what he's going to think of his behavior (especially the restaurant scene in this chap)...specially when he discovers he's trapped himself! I hadn't intended to pursue that angle, but, well, that looming sequel is bound to take us into that territory. That backlash is especially nasty when the person doing the lashing is in serious denial and looking for a scapegoat. I honestly can't say how this Yuki will react...probably depends on what triggers the realization.

Bubble: Hope you had a great vaca!

KyoHana: That phone conversation was another last minute addition, as is the office meeting in this chap. I'm SO glad you all "talked" me into adding the Touma/Eiri line.

My pleasure...literally. I'm really enjoying your vignettes.

Grunhilda: An English teacher. Oooo...making the sign of the cross. :D:D:D Actually, you should make a very good English teacher because you actually do write and write very well. Too many English teachers that I've encountered were closet wannabes. Do I take it from the Swedish references that English is, if not a second language than a dual language? I'm SO jealous. I've a memory like a sieve and have never gotten past the memorization side of learning a second language to the point where I could learn to think in it. (Sigh) I'd so love to be a linguist. Instead, I was physics and math. Fortunately, I got into writing because a real linguist encouraged and mentored me.

I haven't the foggiest what waiting lines are like in dedicated HIV testing facilities. (From the internet, it appears there are same.) In here, I have Eiri's best smile moving Shu to the top of the queue. Not exactly professional, and totally unrealistic, but this is Eiri we're talking about. The man whose smile sends poor unsuspecting souls into orbit. (OVA reference) :D

As for the address and results: I don't think any HIV results are given via mail, tho some facilities will apparently give them over the phone. In this case, it's an onsite consultation immediately after. There are, according to the internet, tests which only take fifteen minutes. I figure this is one high-priced clinic...which would, come to think of it, also keep the waiting line down. What Eiri is talking about having sent to his place is the report, the written paperwork that always comes along with blood tests. Since it's not a doctor-requested test, the paperwork has to go somewhere.

Shu will bounce back. He's pretty off-balance at the moment.

Pinkrose: I think Touma is just a grand character because he doesn't have to be good or bad...just Touma. He's a cutthroat businessman...which doesn't mean he can't also be a loving husband/brother-in-law or even mentor.

Bakayasha: Heh heh...Yuki and his, er, persponals. I could so see him playing "Russian Roulette" with his life, but not his gene-set. Also, he doesn't want to give anyone permanent leverage on him...as a child would do. I don't do a lot of research because it can really become (a) a research paper or (b) take all the fun out of it, but I do want to fairly represent people I respect, such as people in the medical profession, and that includes trying to get some details of that profession at least believable. Still, one of the hardest things for me to figure is when I've got enough for verisimilitude in the story.

I was actually a bit surprised to discover that bit about the month's treatment for medical professionals accidentally exposed. I discovered it while looking up the current status of testing and time frames and it seemed like a great way to torment Yuki. How could I pass it up:D

Wheeee...Time to post and get back to Harry. Thanks again, everyone, for reading! —Vin