What a bad way to begin a new fic. Once again, time is limited, so no editing. Forgive me.
"Coffee's on the counter, Yotan."
The blonde groaned lustily and began making a bee-line for the pot. Funny how much more he ached this morning than he had when he had finally fallen into bed – was it only four hours ago?
Grabbing the first mug he found, Yohji didn't even bother to check to see if it was clean before pouring the coffee inside.
"Careful – it's hot."
Nodding, Yohji took an experimental sip. Then another.
Finally, he threw his head back and moaned.
"Gods! Marry me, Omi."
"First of all – yuck. Secondly, as I'm underage, the very idea is very, very illegal."
"Ah, but you'd make the best wife ever…" he mumbled, sliding into a chair.
The younger man heaved a heavy sigh. He knew, wisely, that trying to argue with Yohji about one of the blonde's stupid leaps of logic was pointless, and only encouraged him. Yohji had been very disappointed when he had first realized the kid had him figured out. Now he was just thankful he hadn't bothered to share the knowledge with the rest of the team.
Yohji would never get to have any fun if they all learned to ignore him.
"Shut up and drink your coffee," the youngest Weiss ordered, reluctantly resigned to the other man's mood.
"Breakfast?" Yohji asked hopefully.
"In the oven."
"I swear, chibi, I would pay for your sex change operation out of my own pocket."
"Yotan? You've passed the quirky line, and are running headlong to the creepy one."
"Thanks for the warning – but this is just me when I'm sleep-deprived. Get used to it if you plan to keep dragging my ass outta' bed to help open the shop. You know I'm not a morning person."
The timer on the oven went off, and with another sigh, the youngest Weiss went to check on the food. "I explained all of this to you before, Yotan," he said wearily. "Ken's going to be laid up in bed for weeks, and Aya's not going to be able to do a lot of bending or lifting until his wounds heal. We're going to be the only ones available to open for a while."
"Unless the Krittiker docs say our buddies are just playing the pity card with us when we go in for those nasty physicals."
"True," he acknowledged. "But…"
But it was doubtful. The reason Weiss preferred to do its own patching up was the simple reason that Krittiker was far too protective of their people – as long as they were off duty. Sending them into danger, sanctioning them to murder, that was one thing. But if they got injured and survived, then they could find themselves faced with months of hospital time, complete with humiliating, uncomfortable, and often painful tests, for something as simple as a bullet wound.
"Can't we just…open the shop later while they're out of commission?" he asked hopefully.
"No, Yohji."
Omi returned to the table with two plates of muffins, and he couldn't hide a tired sigh as he sat back down. The cute act no doubt took far more energy than it looked like, and, as the kid had pointed out last night, Yohji hadn't been the only one to leave their mission exhausted.
"Someone needs to remove that work ethic of yours, chibi," Yohji mumbled, suddenly serious.
Omi grinned at him and shook his head. "You're such a bad influence, Yotan," he said.
Yohji couldn't help but to return the grin.
"So?" Omi juggled a hot muffin between his hands for a moment before finally tearing off a piece and popping it into his mouth. His intelligent blue eyes were curious, inquisitive. "How did it go with Aya last night?"
"Excuse me?" Yohji feigned shock.
Omi rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean! His injuries! He obviously didn't kill you…"
"Yeah, yeah, I know – what a damned shame, eh?"
"Did he let you help him or not?" he pressed.
"Oooh, you mean his wounds? Yeah, yeah, of course – these pretty looks aren't just for show. I've got charm to boot. I just fluttered my eyelashes and he let me patch him up just fine. Man can be damned pleasant when he wants to be. A little free with his hands, though, if you know what I mean."
"Yotan be serious!"
"He's fine, okay? Dr. Yotan took terrific care of him. My bedside manner is beyond compare."
"I'll go check on him later," Omi decided, eyeing him warily.
"Don't you trust me? Look – I'm sorry. I'll check up on him, okay?"
Omi simply looked at him, eyes flat and suspicious.
Yohji raised his hands defensively. "Nothing funny!" he assured him. "It's just…he's my patient, isn't he? So you take care of Kenken, and I'll be responsible for almighty leader. Maybe I can even convince him to let the docs remove that stick he keeps up his ass."
Omi still looked unconvinced. "Yotan…"
"Great. So we're agreed." Yohji rose from his chair and refilled his coffee cup. After a few moments' thought, he took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with milk.
"Where are you going?" Omi asked with resignation as Yohji tried to juggle the coffee, milk, and plate all at once.
"I thought we just had this conversation. I'm going to check on my patient." Yohji frowned at the various dishes he carried and silently ordered them not to fall from his grasp as he began to head for the stairs. "I'm assuming he's up and out of bed already, knowing Mr. Doesn't-know-when-to-quit. Man needs to eat, right?"
"Yes, but…"
"When's the last time you saw that bastard eat breakfast? Dr. Yotan will see to the proper nutrition of his patient."
"Yotan, I'm not so sure about this…"
Yohji ignored him and began to head up the stairs.
He wasn't entirely sure where the idea to volunteer to do 'nurse' duty for Aya had come from, or why, or when it had occurred to him. If all else failed, he would blame the whim on sleep deprivation.
It was just that…it was impossible to forget what he had seen last night. Aya was their leader – he was cold, short-tempered, violent, and rude. He was also incredibly fragile. The difference was impossible for the blonde's inquisitive mind to ignore. It was interesting, and he wanted to explore it further. He had spent too many years making his living off of seeking out others most closely guarded secrets – his instincts would simply not allow him to let go of something so strange and surprising as the realization that Aya Fujimiya was, indeed, human.
He found Aya's door at the end of the hallway closed, but, fortunately, unlocked. Somehow Yohji managed to get it open without spilling anything.
The bed was empty, and neatly made. The bathroom door was closed, and Yohji could faintly make out the sound of the shower running.
So, then, the oh-so-very friendly leader of Weiss hadn't left the house yet this morning. Yohji crossed the room and set his breakfast dishes down on the bedside table. He then moved to the window and opened the shades to let the early morning light spill into the dreary room. After a moments thought, he went ahead and opened the window a little, relieving the stuffiness with some fresh air.
He was just sitting down on the bed when the bathroom door opened. Aya clad only in a towel, stopped short at the sight of him invading his room. His eyes darted to the window, then to the still-open door, before fixing on Yohji once again. For just a moment, his usual blank expression had been replaced by one of surprise.
But, quickly, that expression was replaced by plain annoyance.
"What the hell do you want?"
The ice in that voice could freeze over hell. Yohji forced a smile, and hoped with every fiber of his being that he looked even the slightest bit as if he were confident in his own actions.
"Is that just how you're going to greet me from now on?" he asked as lightly as possible. "Don't you think 'hello Yohji' takes a hell of a lot less time to say?"
Aya's lips thinned. His eyes narrowed.
Yohji shrugged.
"I came up to check on my patient," he said. "Look – I even brought you breakfast."
Aya glanced at the offering on the table, and his eyes narrowed even further. "I don't," he stated coldly, "Eat breakfast."
"Well, it wouldn't hurt you to try it sometime, would it?" Yohji rose and approached, and was very proud of how steady his legs were as he walked. Aya's expression was unreadable as he watched him, but he didn't move away even as Yohji reached out to examine his bandages.
"They look pretty good today," he decided. A part of him felt bad for Aya. While the slashes hadn't been deep enough to cause any kind of permanent damage, he was sure they were going to prove annoying as hell – not to mention painful, no matter how he moved. A paper cut hurt, and seemed to manage to catch on anything and everything until it healed, and these injuries were far worse than a paper cut. Deeper, longer – and they would take longer to heal, too. Additionally, some had bled an awful lot, making Aya undoubtedly weak from blood loss today. Yohji just hoped he'd done a good job cleaning them. It would be awful if any of them got infected. "Do you want some pain meds?"
"No."
Aya's answer was short, his tone clipped. Yohji would have to build up a resistance to that poison if he planned to continue to annoy the small redhead.
"Do they hurt?"
Silence.
"At least let me help you get dressed or something," Yohji offered. "Every move you make is going to pull at those wounds."
"I can handle it myself."
Yohji looked away from the long slash across the small man's chest and abdomen, and into his leader's frozen face. Standing there, dripping, clothed in nothing but a towel with his wet hair falling into his eyes, he should have looked very helpless.
Instead, he was threatening.
Yohji drew back.
"Well…I better get down to the shop…" he decided, awkward and chilled. "You take it easy today, all right? No doing anything stupid like ripping out your stitches or anything. And eat that breakfast."
The skin around Aya's eyes tightened as he glared.
Yohji decided it was time he make his exit.
When Yohji's lunch break came around, he entered the kitchen to find the breakfast dishes sitting on the counter near the sink. The milk had been drunk, but only one of the muffins was gone. The coffee didn't look as if it had been touched. It was a testament to how much Aya had to have been hurting that he hadn't washed the dishes after he had finished with them.
"I must be suicidal…" Yohji muttered, as it occurred to him just how stupid his breakfast stunt had probably been. Filled with these dark thoughts, he began to make himself a sandwich. After further thought, he made a second one.
When he entered the study with his lunch, a bottle of water, and a can of beer, he found himself greeted by a dark, suspicious glare almost immediately. Attempting to ignore it, the blonde settled himself casually into a chair and pretended to be completely unaware of the glowering presence of the small red haired man. He set his attention solely on his food, humming a little under his breath and ignoring Aya until he was sure the man had finally turned his eyes back on the book lying open on his lap.
From the corner of his eye he watched his leader stare and stare and stare at the page before him. He wasn't reading – either Yohji being in the room bothered him, or, as the blonde thought to be far more likely, the small man was simply in too much pain to read.
"Did you take something?" the blonde asked at last, carefully casual.
A grunt.
Yohji sighed. "You're only making it worse on yourself, man," he pointed out.
Another grunt.
"All right, fine. Be that way. Stubborn ass." Yohji let silence fall for a while – just long enough for the other man to begin to let his guard down as much as he was able. "Damn!" the blonde said at last, interrupting the silence. "I'm full. Made too much lunch. Take this other sandwich off my hands, will you?"
"Do you think you're clever, Kudoh?"
"Not really, no." Yohji rose from his seat and took the lunch and the bottle of water to Aya, who did nothing but glare at him. "You were a good boy to nibble your breakfast," her said lightly, "But now I need you to eat a little more."
Aya's glare grew even more fierce.
Yohji refused to be moved. Their little staring contest lasted for several moments before, with a snarl, Aya snatched away the offerings. Yohji stood over him, waiting, until he took a small bite. Only then did the blonde consent to returning to his chair.
He didn't sit down a moment too soon, he decided privately. Another few moments of facing that glare and he was sure his knees would have given out.
Aya scared the hell out of him.
There was silence in the room as Yohji watched Aya eat and fought to remain strong in his resolve no matter how the man growled. He swore to himself that he would not leave the room until every last bite of the sandwich was gone.
Aya grimaced suddenly, and turned his glare to his food.
"I don't like pickles," he informed Yohji icily, breaking the silence as he removed the offending slices.
"Sorry. See how helpful communication is? Next time I'll know better."
A displeased grunt was his only response. Aya took a bite, his glare somehow promising Yohji worlds of violence for ever daring to force him to do something as unpleasant as take care of himself. No doubt the man was plotting pain for him, and the blonde knew he had already pushed his luck far beyond the grounds of normal rationality.
But Yohji never really had been very good at knowing how to stop while he was ahead. He offered Aya a sudden, stupid smile.
"Is that why you didn't drink the coffee?" he asked. "I didn't make it right?"
A grunt.
"Well, then, tell me how you like it so I'll know better. Cream? Sugar?"
"I don't like coffee."
Yohji blinked, partially from surprise that he'd gotten an answer at all. "I've seen you drink it before," he said, feeling stupid.
The man looked away. "Only when necessary," he stated gruffly.
The revelation made Yohji grin idiotically. Aya Fujimiya was human. He got tired and needed a little boost every once in a while, just like everyone else. A fierce, warning glare was all that kept him from voicing the thought, though it wasn't enough to banish the grin.
"Okay," he said, "Then what do you like instead?"
Those unusual purple eyes narrowed dangerously, and Yohji did his best to offer a casual shrug.
"As long as I'm your nurse, I'm going to be making sure you eat," he said. He'd decided on this last night, when he'd seen how painfully thin the man really was. It took a lot of effort on his part to keep his voice light in the face of that glare. "If you don't show up for a meal, I'm gonna bring it to you. If you refuse to eat, I'll feed you myself. Don't doubt me – I've never been very good at the whole self-preservation thing." Yohji grinned, but his attempt at humor fell pathetically flat. He let the grin fall away. "Look – you might as well save us both a hell of a lot of trouble and just cooperate."
"Why are you doing this?"
Yohji shrugged again. The tone of the man's voice – angry but also, somehow, lost – convinced him that he had made the right decision. He wouldn't be stupid enough to try to explain himself, though. Not when he barely understood it himself. If Aya could play the stay-silent-and-make-everyone-else-guess game, then Yohji could, too.
Aya stared at him for a moment, then put the sandwich down.
"I'm full," he announced.
Yohji frowned, but the smaller man had eaten roughly half of it, which was certainly better than nothing.
"All right," he agreed, and rose. For just a moment, Aya looked as if he thought the blonde was about to try to force feed him. He found himself laughing a little at the expression of horror. "I'll let you get away with it today – but remember that we're just gonna have to do this all over again at dinner."
Aya lifted his lip in a snarl.
Yohji crossed the room to him, drawing a couple small bottles from his pocket and setting them down next to the small table next to the small man.
"Just one more thing, oh-great-leader," he drawled. "Pain meds and vitamins. I want you to take them."
"No."
"You'll take them or I'll sit on you and make you take them." Yohji promised, advancing. Aya rose from his chair quickly, glaring, but he moved wrong and pulled at his wounds. There was no hiding his sudden hiss of pain.
Yohji shook his head, amazed at the man's incredible stubbornness, and grabbed Aya's hand. He held it open as he popped the tops on the bottles and began shaking pills into it.
"What – you want to be miserable?"
Aya's glare made it clear – what right did Yohji have to talk to anyone about their health? Well, he didn't care if it did make him a hypocrite. What he had seen last night had bothered the hell out of him.
And the reminder of last night, only strengthened his resolve. He met Aya's glare without flinching, and the small redhead, infuriated, put the pills in his mouth, following them with a sip of water.
"Did you really swallow it?" Yohji asked suspiciously.
Aya grunted.
"Good. Because I'll be able to tell if you didn't. These things will knock you out pretty quickly if you aren't used to them – so I can some back to check on you in about twenty minutes, and tell if they're working or not."
Aya again lifted the bottle of water to his lips.
This time he did swallow the pills.
Yohji shook his head.
"Figures I'd have to play nursemaid to the difficult one," he grumbled. "Omi says Kenken actually likes taking his pills."
Aya only glared.
Yohji took his time in the kitchen washing the breakfast and lunch dishes. The shop hadn't been too busy when he'd left it, and anyway, he knew that Omi would forgive him for taking a long lunch once he realized what Yohji had been doing with the extra time he had taken. Being responsible with his patient was something not even Omi could fuss about.
Of course, Yohji gave himself the time to finish his beer and have a cigarette, too, but the kid didn't need to know that.
Once everything in the kitchen was taken care of, the blonde headed back up to the study.
He found Aya in the chair where he had left him, though his book had fallen to the floor. The water bottle, now empty, had also fallen.
And Aya was completely, obliviously, asleep.
Yohji shook his head in amusement and moved to the chair, knowing full well that he was about to do something that could potentially get him into a lot of trouble with the small, dangerous man.
Aya would be in a hell of a lot worse pain though, he reasoned, if he was allowed to sleep in that chair.
"Where's Omi?"
Yohji looked up, somewhat surprised to find Aya standing in the kitchen doorway. He was rumpled from sleep and obviously still a little foggy from the drugs. Yohji wondered if the dose he had given him had been a little strong for his small body, or if he had just needed more sleep than he usually allowed himself – he had been completely out for hours.
"Feeling any better?" Yohji asked, wondering if he was about to receive a blade to the jugular. Aya certainly didn't look very happy.
Aya didn't answer other than to glare.
"Omi's upstairs," Yohji informed him, turning his attention back to his dinner. "Ken can't come downstairs yet and the chibi didn't want him eating alone. And since it was Kenken's night to cook dinner, we just got takeout. You want me to fix a plate for you?"
Another glare.
Yohji only shrugged.
"Just as long as you eat."
Careful not to get caught, he watched the other man put food on his plate. It wasn't a lot of food, but it was enough to keep Yohji from jumping up to 'help' him.
Aya was still glaring as he sat down.
"What?" Yohji asked.
Aya glowered a moment longer, nearly hesitating, before speaking.
"You carried me to bed, didn't you?"
Yohji blinked innocently. "Whatever do you mean?"
The glare sharpened dangerously. "I fell asleep in the chair, and woke in bed," he stated. "You did that, didn't you?"
"Those must've been some really creative dreams you had," the blonde quipped, ignoring the glare as best as he could. "Do I have cause for concern? I mean, if you've started to fantasize about me…"
Aya's glare grew even more fierce, and it took all of Yohji's control not to break down and beg for mercy. He wondered how someone so small had ever become so frightening. It felt like a very long time before the redhead gave a dismissive snort and looked away at last, beginning to pick at his food.
Only when he was sure the man's attention was diverted did Yohji allow himself a small smile.
A smile which he was very careful not to let Aya see.
tbc
response to unsigned reviews:
Caitlebug - (grins) I'll try.
Tigermink - Basically, he's the active field leader, and acts as such even in the cannon - why is why so many writers treat him as the leader. Although Omi does, technically, have higher rank (and is the only one, I think, to make reports to their employers) he rarely uses it (my theory: he's still young and learning and few would take him seriously at t stage, anyway.) Ack! I had a much more eloquent response, but my time is almost up. Anyway, that's the quick explanation for the plot choice. Thanks for reading - and thanks for the question.