Sorry for the wait.

Aya stared at him so strangely sometimes. As if he were a creature totally beyond his understanding. As if he half suspected that, at any moment, some horrible monster would burst forth and devour him. Frightened, but also interested. Wary but intrigued.

At least, that was how Yohji had begun to interpret that particular look. Aya wasn't frowning enough for it to mean 'curl-up-and-die.'

He slid his hands from his shoulders to begin the task of unbuttoning Aya's shirt; he was anxious to get the trembling man out of his dripping clothes and into something warm. He had never once seen the man get sick, but he was so thin and so negligent when it came to his own health that the blonde had serious doubts about his immune system.

He paused a few buttons down and rolled his eyes back up to Aya's face. The smaller man's expression was completely blank.

Yohji attempted a playful grin.

"Am I gonna get stabbed for this?"

Aya hesitated, looking away. Soundlessly, he shook his head.

Yohji slid the shirt down Aya's pale, slender shoulders and Aya did nothing either to help or hinder him. He didn't so much as twitch when Yohji walked away – although he did give a small jump when Yohji returned, throwing a thick blanket from the bed over his shoulders.

He stayed behind the smaller man, hoping his own body would a little extra warmth as he, half-embracing him, helped him out of his slacks and boxers.

He almost made a joke about having expected the next time he got him naked to be under much more pleasant circumstances, but wisely held his tongue. Aya had grown too quiet and pliant under his hands – teasing him would be a betrayal of trust.

He circled an arm around his waist as the smaller man dully kicked away his wet clothing.

"Your skin is like ice," he frowned. "How long were you out walking in this mess?"

He didn't answer.

He did lean further into Yohji's arms. The blonde tightened his embrace.

"Is this helping?" Yohji asked.

"Yes," Aya's voice was nearly a whisper.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," he answered again. His voice was even more quiet this time.

Yohji nuzzled his neck, frowning thoughtfully. "You don't want me to ask where you went to today," he said finally.

"It's personal," Aya stated.

Yohji tightened his hold on him, pressing even closer. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm…" Aya hesitated. "Happy."

Yohji didn't have the chance to respond. A knock came at the door, and then the doorknob jiggled loudly.

"Aya?" Ken called from the hallway. "Aya, you gotta open the door. Manx is here, and - !" Ken's voice cut off with a strangled noise when Yohji opened the door. The athlete grew very pale, then very red. "What are you doing in here?"

"And with the door locked. Gee. I wonder."

Clutching his blanket tightly around himself, Aya began to push at Yohji to get him out the door. "Tell Manx I'm getting changed," he said, and slammed the door in their faces.

"Well, that was a damned quick mood shift," Yohji mumbled, glaring at the door.

Ken was staring at him in horror – a look he ignored as he took out his cigarettes and lit one. He was going to need a lot more than nicotine if Aya was going to keep running hot and cold like this.

After a few moments, he at last turned his attention to the still-gaping Ken.

"Well," he drawled. "We better get going. It's rude to keep a lady waiting, after all."

"Yohji…"

"And you better not mention any of this to her, either."

Ken frowned, coming back to himself with a stubborn look. "I won't say anything," he promised. "But you better give me an explanation!"

"What's to explain?" Yohji asked with a careless shrug, heading for the stairs. "I'm dating Aya. I think."

"How the hell is that something that doesn't need to be explained?" Ken demanded, following.

"Damn it," Yohji sighed, throwing his head back and staring up at the ceiling. "I'm starting to think that woman lives to destroy my weekends!"

Omi, returning from walking Manx to the door, came halfway down the stairs and stopped. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room," he announced with clear reluctance. "I need to get a head start on my homework…sounds like there won't be much time for it later…"

"That's one way of putting it," Yohji grumbled.

As far as missions went, this one seemed like pretty standard business: integrate the bad guys' business, find said bad guy and all his little accomplices, and take care of all the guilty parties. Between the surveillance work, the actual killing, and the clean-up, though, even the most run-of-the-mill missions could be time-consuming as hell.

It was even worse when Krittiker left orders that the work be taken care of without shutting down or cutting back hours at the shop.

Yohji understood that closing or changing hours too often was suspicious. That was why he so often wished they didn't have the stupid cover. When they had to fit a mission around the damned flowershop, it was stressful as hell. Even Omi got bitchy.

"I had a game planned this weekend!" Ken remembered with a groan. Hurling himself from his seat, he rushed up the stairs after Omi to grab the phone.

They would be going non-stop this weekend. Omi would be force-feeding them all protein to keep their energy up, there would be fierce battles over the coffee maker, and getting Aya alone on a 'real' date would have to be pushed off for yet another week.

Yohji let his eyes drift over to Aya at the thought. The man had dressed himself in baggy sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, and looked amazingly warm, snuggly, and adorable. He hadn't spoken a word during the mission briefing, other than when he accepted the assignment.

It was strange – the feelings he felt when he looked at the smaller man. The lengths he was willing to go to in order to fight for a relationship that hadn't even started yet.

Aya had begun this, but Yohji felt like he was willing to do almost anything to keep it going. It wasn't about being intrigued by the mystery that was Aya Fujimiya. It wasn't about the fun he had teasing him, the surprising attraction he felt for him, or even the tempting memory of what he had looked like, naked and asleep, that morning after the club. Those things contributed to his feelings, but they weren't the reason for them.

No, the reason had more to do with the way Aya felt in his arms, the sweet smell of his hair, the way he could become so surprisingly gentle and vulnerable…

And the fact that it had felt so amazingly, impossibly right when they had kissed. That was definitely a major factor.

Aya lifted his eyes to meet Yohji's – as if sensing his gaze. Those eyes were utterly unreadable as he stared at him – dark, thoughtful, shadowed – and his face was completely expressionless.

He was surprised when the man rose and moved to join him on the couch. He was even more surprised when Aya silently directed him to wrap his arms around him.

"I thought we weren't ready for snuggling yet," he quipped stupidly.

"Shut up," Aya ordered quietly, resting his head on his shoulder.

Yohji gave a small laugh and did his best to oblige. He tightened his arms carefully around the smaller man and nuzzled his hair and Aya didn't do a thing to stop him.

"Is this about finishing what we started earlier?" he asked at last, suggestively.

"Kudoh."

He laughed. That warning in Aya's tone was fast changing from something to be afraid of to something to enjoy.

"This…" Aya hesitated. "I wanted to thank you for earlier."

"Yeah?"

Aya was silent for several long moments. "I shouldn't have started this," he whispered at last, "But I can't stop myself."

"I'm that irresistible, huh?"

Aya pulled away, glaring. Yohji laughed and pulled him near once more. "I'm teasing you," he said.

"Every step I take with you I'm forcing myself to go against everything," Aya stated. This time when he pulled away, he stood up. "I know it's wrong…that I don't deserve…but I'm here, anyway."

"Aya…"

"Don't play with me. Don't make me go through this if it's only a joke."

Yohji rose quickly. "You know it isn't!"

"I don't know, Kudoh – that's the point!"

Yohji caught his arm as he began to leave. "How the hell am I supposed to do this, Aya?" he demanded. "You get mad if I tease you, mad if I'm sincere, and everything I learn about you I have to figure out on my own because you don't tell me shit!"

With a snarl, Aya tried to pull away. Yohji only tightened his grip.

"Maybe I should be the one asking about your motivations!"

Aya stared at him as if he had just said the strangest thing in the world. "I'm the one who started this," he said at last.

"So since it was your idea, you don't have to work at it? That's not fair."

"You're the one who…who knows what you're doing!"

"So I'm supposed to read your mind?"

"I…" Aya looked lost.

Despite his best efforts, Yohji felt his anger drain away. Releasing Aya's arm, he shoved his hands into his pockets in order to keep from reaching for him. Something about Aya made Yohji want to touch him all the time – but he knew that they weren't really at a stage yet where he had the right to do that.

"Is this really the first time you've tried to do something like this?" he asked.

"I went out with Yukio," he began.

"I don't think that counts."

Aya looked away. After several silent moments, he shook his head. "I…" he hesitated. "I've had some missions before where I was supposed to…but I always found a way around it. And there were a few times when I was on my own, before joining Krittiker, when people offered to exchange information for…but I never managed to…"

"Okay," Yohji said, stopping him. So Aya really hadn't been in a real relationship before, and the closest he had come to physicality with another person was in a non-passionate, strictly practical manner. That explained quite a lot.

He attempted a smile, but that lost, almost childlike look on Aya's face did not go away.

"I think I'm beginning to understand," he said. "When you talk to me, it helps me understand."

"I'm sorry…"

"No…I don't know your story, Aya, but…it's clear you've been through a lot. I just have to remember to be patient."

"I'm sorry."

"Will you stop that?" this time, Yohji's smile was more real. "Masochistic bastard. I'm willing to work. I want this. I want you."

Yohji laughed at the expression on Aya's face. Stunned, vulnerable, hopeful – he brushed a kiss against his cheek and began heading up the stairs.

"You're going to have to face it, Aya," he said, not looking back. "I like you. Despite your best efforts to stop me."

Fate was one cruel-hearted bitch. It was a fac Yohji had often reflected on before he had begun his relationship, friendship, whatever-the-hell-it-was he was doing with Aya. The fact that such a gorgeous creature had to possess such a terrible personality had always bothered him.

Of course, now he knew that he had been wrong – at least in that assumption. Aya was sweet and he was funny and he was so deliciously needy – he just hid it frighteningly well.

Still, it was a cruel twist of fate that would place such a lovely man in such a delightfully provocative outfit and then make it impossible for Yohji to molest him.

"I can't afford for anything to distract me during a mission. I can't afford to feel anything." Aya had told him earlier that night. He had pulled Yohji aside and nearly become violent when he'd realized that the blonde had assumed the private moment had been meant for a little pre-work snuggle.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Can't afford to feel anything?"

"I need to have a heart of ice to wield my sword," he'd glared, smacking away the hand that reached for him. "I'm trying to warn you so that you don't get yourself killed."

"I appreciate the warning, but I already knew you were a cold-hearted bastard," Yohji had grinned, reaching for him again.

Aya once again smacked away the offending hand. "The priority is the mission, not you."

"Okay, okay, fine!"

He appreciated the warning. He liked that Aya had thought to warn him, and he hoped that he hadn't pissed him off with his teasing.

True to his word, Aya had been ice ever since they had left for the mission.

And Yohji, true to his nature, had been fixating on the way Aya looked in his mission attire all night. For the first time he found himself regretting that they were trying for a real relationship – regretting that they were going slowly and that he couldn't simply seduce him, rip those clothes from his body, and devour all that silken skin. Images of Aya wearing nothing but those bitch boots had been haunting him all night.

He didn't want to think about how often he'd almost been injured tonight because he'd been distracted fantasizing about Aya.

"Kudoh!" Ken snapped, as he very nearly walked into a hail of bullets. "What the hell are you trying to do?"

Cursing, he let his wire fly. They hadn't had a choice but to trip the alarm – Krittiker wanted as many personal employees of the target killed as possible. It really wasn't the kind of mission for Yohji to be zoning out on.

The guards, unsuspecting of such an unusual weapon, easily became tangled – so hopelessly so, in fact, that Ken had no problem dispatching them quickly. Three had strangled themselves in the wire before he could even reach them.

Yohji's earpiece crackled.

"Balanese – Siberian – everything okay?"

"Just peachy, chibi," he muttered, following Ken as the pissed-off athlete silently headed down the next hall. He and Ken were playing exterminators tonight – going through every level of their target's mansion and killing everyone they found. If Aya did his job right, they need never see the target or his mistress – the swordsman should be taking them out even now. Omi was on the outside, using his crossbow to take out anyone who tried to run from the compound and using a blueprint of the mansion on his laptop as well as tracking devices in their uniforms to guide their movements.

"You guys aren't arguing again, are you?" Omi asked, disapproving. Ken had sniped at Yohji the entire car ride over – irritated that he had not yet received the promised explanation.

"We're fine," Ken answered shortly.

"Have you heard from Aya yet?"

"No, he disconnected the line," Omi answered. He didn't sound overly concerned. Aya often shut down communications when he went off alone on missions. It was dangerous, and Krittiker didn't approve, but he claimed that being forced to listen to their 'idiotic chatter' was even more dangerous than separating himself from potential backup. "I'm not showing any more signs of life on that floor," Omi informed them. "Head on to the next one."

"How many floors does this place have?" Ken demanded.

"Just one more," Omi promised. "Just be sure to stay out of Ayan's way."

"Yohji's the one you need to worry about in that respect," the athlete grumbled.

"Fuck you, too, Kenken."

"Yeah – no thanks."

They heard a heavy sigh from Omi, a grumble that sounded suspiciously like the word 'fucktards,' and then silence on the line.

"Ken, do you need a time out?" Yohji asked as they found the stairs.

"Just shut up."

They took the stairs two at a time, immaturely jostling each other to try to cause the other to stumble or even fall. It didn't matter that they were on the job – sometimes they had the tendency to bring out each other's worst qualities.

"Why do you have such a damned problem with it?" Yohji demanded as they jostled each other for the door. "You like him or something?"

"I would never do something so disgusting!"

"What – because we're both men?"

"No – because it threatens Weiss, dumbass!"

Yohji stopped, staring at his glowering teammate. He was about to point out the numerous times Ken's own poor decisions had put their team in danger when a door opened and six more guards decided to make their presences known in a hailstorm of bullets.

tbc

So sorry for the long wait. No review response this time except to say I'm sorry and I love you all. I know this seems to end at a bad place (especially as I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again...sorry) but it's not really a cliffie. I promise it's not. Er...believe me?