After she got home that evening, Misaki changed into her new lingerie. She felt a little silly, getting undressed only to put on the exact same clothes again - but she didn't know when (or if) Hei would arrive, and she wasn't ready for pajamas quite yet.

The dinner hour came and went. Misaki finished up the paperwork that she had brought home; as the evening wore on, there was no sign of Hei. She was debating going to bed, though it was a bit early - she had really enjoyed the feeling of him climbing in beside her in the middle of the night - when her phone rang.

Misaki looked at the display: Ootsuka. "Kirihara," she answered brusquely.

"Chief, hi - I hope it's not too late to call, on your night off…"

Misaki suppressed a sigh. Sometimes, she wished that it was legal to use ME on her co-workers. At least Ootsuka had kept her discovery of her chief's dating life to herself. "Of course not. Is there new star activity?"

There were really only two stars that Misaki was interested in; her team had directions to alert her to those stars' activity regardless of the time. UB-001, and -

"BK-201," Ootsuka said. Misaki felt her chest constrict a little.

The other woman continued, "Only a brief burst. At approximately the same time, another star fell: LT-404. We recorded no activity from that star."

"Right," Misaki said, struggling to keep a level of detachment in her voice. "Do you have a location?"

"Not yet. Should I call if we find the crime scene?"

"No; not tonight. Just make sure the report is on my desk first thing in the morning."

Ootsuka acknowledged the order, then ended the call. Misaki flipped her phone shut with one hand, gripping it tightly. It was definitely not going to be easy, getting used to his job. She wondered, again, if she was truly an idiot for pursuing this…not relationship. Arrangement. How long would she be able to turn a blind eye to the fact that he was a killer? How long would he be able to trust her, a cop, with that knowledge?

Misaki squeezed her eyes shut, then took a deep breath and set her phone on the coffee table. It was best to just not think about it at all.

Whatever sleepiness she might have been feeling had been dispelled by Ootsuka's call, and she didn't relish the prospect of staying up for hours, turning her situation and all possible outcomes over in her mind. To distract herself, she picked up a book that Matsumoto had loaned her months ago (to take on her vacation…which she had ended up canceling) and curled up on the sofa to read.

It turned out to be a fascinating story; she was deep into the text when a sound made her look up - and she jumped at the sight a figure in black stepping through her balcony door.

"You scared me," she said, heart pounding.

Hei pushed the door shut behind him. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't want to come to the front door dressed like this."

Misaki warily eyed the knife hilts that were protruding from his unbuttoned trench coat.

When she didn't say anything, he added hesitantly, "I can go back to my place and change…"

"No," Misaki said, finding her voice at last. "No, it's fine." She'd just have to get used to the sight of him in his Black Reaper gear. Even though she was more comfortable thinking of him as a more serious version of Li, he was who he was. Actually, the reminder would be good for her. The more reminders, the better.

Plus, he did look sexy, dressed all in black. It reminded her of the night she'd discovered his identity - the first time she'd ever seen him without his mask. Either of his masks.

Hei removed his coat, folding it over the arm of the sofa. "What are you reading?" he asked as he stripped off his gloves.

She glanced down at the book. "A murder mystery. It's pretty good."

"Have you solved it yet?"

Misaki looked up at him sharply. She couldn't tell if he was teasing her or not. "I'm only a quarter of the way through," she said, showing him the large chunk of pages that still lay beyond her bookmark.

He merely raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Okay, yes. I think so, anyway. And you don't have to look so smug," she added, as he began unstrapping his knives. She didn't know how he could look smug with barely a change in his expression - but he did. "Fiction is easy. It has to make sense, or you wouldn't believe it. Every word a person says, every clue that gets noticed is important, or it wouldn't be there. If you pay attention, it's obvious. It's real life that's hard."

Hei settled onto the sofa next to her. "I guess that's true. Nothing that's real ever makes sense."

Misaki thought that he sounded a little wistful. She set down her book and scooted closer to him. Hei lifted his arm in invitation, and she pressed herself cozily into his side. He smelled heavenly: a mixture of steel, perspiration, and that subtle masculine scent that was all his own. "But that's my job - making sense out of life's mess."

"Did you always want to join the police?"

"Yeah. I've always been good at solving puzzles, and I've always wanted to do what I could to help others - becoming a detective seemed like the best way to do it. Most people assume that I joined because of my dad, but that was really only a small factor in my decision." Misaki idly traced small circles on the top of Hei's thigh. It was nice, being able to sit and talk like this. She was flattered that he seemed to want to know more about her life.

"Your dad?"

"Yes - he's Division Chief of the Organized Crime Control Bureau. You didn't know that?"

Hei shook his head.

That surprised Misaki; she would have thought that her father's name would be well known among the crime syndicates in the city. Did that mean that Hei definitely worked for a foreign organization? Then again, low-level operatives wouldn't necessarily need to know who was tasked with their arrest, beyond the nebulous 'police'.

"He doesn't mind that you do such dangerous work?"

"Yes and no," she said. "He knows that police work is my passion, and always encouraged me to follow it. But he doesn't like that my job has me out on the street, chasing contractors. Lately he's been pushing me to accept a promotion, that would have me chained to a desk all day."

Hei's arm tightened slightly around her. "It sounds like you'd be safer. Why don't you accept?"

"I might be safer," Misaki said pointedly. "But I don't know if I'd be more effective. After what happened with Alice…that whole night was just such a disaster. VI-952 slaughtered half a dozen people, including my own friend; I almost got Saitou and myself killed; and I let BK-201 escape - I didn't even get a shot off. I don't deserve a promotion."

"Shooting me wouldn't have had any effect," Hei said, his tone matter-of-fact but light.

She snorted. "That doesn't actually make me feel better." Although, it did. Not the fact that her gun was useless against his trench coat; rather, that it was so easy to talk to him about such serious things. Kanami always did her best to help Misaki see things in another light, to cheer her up - which was helpful, to a point. But Hei just…listened. That was what she really needed, sometimes. "Anyway; a promotion would mean having to leave my team, but we work so well together right now. I'm just not ready."

Hei nodded, his expression soft. "Finding a team you can trust isn't easy. You should hold on to them as long as you can." He was lightly stroking the back of her hand now; every brush of his fingers sent a tingle down her spine.

"I plan to." She plucked at the tight fabric of his sleeve. "So, what did you want to be when you grew up?" He played his roles so well that she honestly couldn't picture him as anything except Li, the sweet exchange student, or Hei, the cold assassin. But surely he must have had some dream, some passion that he would have pursued had things gone differently.

However, his jaw tightened at her question, and he shrugged stiffly. "I don't know. I never used to think about the future. I still don't."

"What did your parents do?" Would he have followed in his father's footsteps, as she had hers?

His tone grew frostier. "They died."

Shit - she had a wonderful habit of saying exactly the wrong thing. "I'm sorry," she said hastily, giving his hand a squeeze, "that was rude of me to ask." This wasn't a relationship, after all; she had no right to demand personal details. Maybe eventually, he would trust her enough to share them. In the meantime, it wasn't the past or future that matter - only the present.

On impulse, she slid out from under his arm and knelt up on the cushions. Hei turned to see what she was doing.

"Face forward," she ordered, then reached up to the base of his neck and pressed her thumbs into the knot of muscle there.

He flinched at her touch, and she hesitated. "Sorry," he said, exhaling slowly. "I just didn't expect that."

Misaki was by no means an expert massager, but his tension was impossible to miss. She used her thumbs to stoke up and down the sides of his neck, working her way down to the muscles that connected neck to shoulder, squeezing and pressing in a circular motion until they began to loosen up. Hei gave a quiet, appreciative groan that sent a spike of desire through her blood.

"Take your shirt off."

Obediently, Hei pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it onto the floor. Misaki leaned forward, letting her breasts brush up against his torso, and continued to massage his upper back, his skin warm and smooth beneath her hands. Mostly smooth: her fingers skated over the slight ridges of old scars. There was a round coin-sized depression in his left shoulder that she was sure was an old bullet wound; previously she'd noticed a similar scar on the back of his thigh that couldn't be more than a month old. She wanted to ask him about it - but now didn't seem like the time. The cut on his triceps that she had bandaged for him had healed nicely, leaving only the faintest trace behind.

Reality didn't make much sense, she mused. The facts surrounding Hei all contradicted each other. Someday, she swore, she would figure him out.

She kissed the back of his neck, the muscles relaxed and soft now under her lips. She slid her hands down his lower back to his waistband, only to discover that he was still wearing that damned complicated belt.

"The clasp is in the back," Hei said in a throaty voice. Misaki smiled against his skin. It took her a couple of minutes to understand how the fastener worked; she might have been quicker if she hadn't been growing more and more impatient with each passing second. At last she got it undone, and it was off.

No sooner had the belt landed on the floor than Hei twisted in his seat and grasped her hips, pulling her into his lap. She grinned at his impatience; threading her arms behind his neck, she rocked her hips suggestively.

But instead of responding in kind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his forehead against hers, breathing deeply.

"I'm sorry for being short with you," he said at last. "I just…don't want to talk about some things."

Misaki reached up and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I understand. And, thanks."

He leaned in and kissed her, sucking gently at her lower lip. She pulled her glasses off and tossed them carelessly onto the table beside her, while Hei tugged her hair free of its ponytail holder to drape over her shoulders. Still kissing her, he began undoing the buttons of her blouse. It wasn't until he had reached the last button and pushed her shirt from her shoulders that he relinquished her lips long enough to gaze down at her. He paused then, staring as if he'd never seen her before.

"Oh," Misaki said. "I went shopping today. Do you like blue?"

Hei brushed the back of his knuckle along the lacy trim of her new bra. She bit her lip against the feather-light touch on her sensitive skin. Wrapping an arm securely around her waist, he lifted them both up off the sofa and stood her on her feet. He locked eyes with her; she couldn't have looked away from his intense gaze even if she'd wanted to.

He reached for the button on her jeans, his eyes darkening perceptibly as he undid it. The sound of the zipper being pulled down seemed to fill the quiet apartment. Misaki wanted to help, to speed things along - he was moving so damnably slow - but his expression warned her against it. Instead she stood, trembling with impatience, as he peeled open her fly to reveal the sky blue boyshorts beneath. His gaze flicked down as if seeking proof of what he'd suspected; then his eyes were on hers again and he tucked his hands behind her waistband. He didn't simply push her jeans down as she expected. Rather, he followed them down, sinking to his knees as his rough hands slid along the smoothness of her legs, caressing every inch.

Then back up to grip her hips; Misaki let out a gasp when he kissed her lower belly, just above the trim of her silky undergarment. She closed her eyes and wove her fingers into her hair, holding his head in place as he continued to lay delicate kisses on her exposed skin. The light stubble on his chin rasped against her thighs.

"Bedroom?" she whispered, no longer trusting her own legs to support her.

His warm breath when he answered heated more than just her skin. "Only if we keep the lights on."

~~~~o~~~~

She really owed Kanami a beer, Misaki decided, as she lay blissed out on her bed. The sheets were a confused tangle and she had no idea where her new things had ended up, but she didn't care. Hei's head rested on her stomach; she idly stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. Her other hand was clasped in his, atop his heart. He was loose and relaxed, not a trace of tension anywhere. Misaki had half a mind to go back to the store and pick out a few more things. She'd never considered herself to have any sort of sex appeal; but knowing that he was so appreciative of her efforts had been a total aphrodisiac for her as well.

Maybe they could plan to "run into" each other again, and he could help her choose; the idea made her smile.

"I was in the store where Kanami and I helped you pick out those clothes today," she told him, speaking her train of thought aloud without considering her words first. "What were you really doing? Were they for Yin?"

Too late, she realized that she was prying again. But his breathing remained calm and even, and he didn't so much as twitch a muscle as she waited for him to refuse to answer. He was silent for so long that she thought he must be asleep; she was nearly asleep herself when he finally spoke.

He told her the whole story; Misaki listened with rapt attention.

"I don't know why I did it," he concluded. "It was stupid."

She twisted so that she could kiss him, her hair falling across his face. "No, it wasn't. It's stupid that you don't understand why not. One more piece, but the puzzle just keeps getting more complicated…"

He turned a perplexed gaze on her, but she didn't explain.

"The truth is ridiculous," she said, "yet somehow more believable than what you told me at the time. You couldn't have come up with better story? I thought contractors were supposed to be good liars."

"I was on the alert for Hitotsubashi's men; the last person I expected to run into was Chief Kirihara, the policewoman from the bathroom stall."

Misaki laughed softly. "You should have just said the clothes were for your girlfriend - that would have made more sense."

Hei paused for a long moment before answering, in a voice that was almost too low to hear. "Maybe I didn't want you to think that I had a girlfriend."

How could such simple words twist her heart so? Misaki kissed him again, then tugged on his hand. Hei pushed himself up the mattress until he was lying alongside her; she reached over and turned out the light, then settled against his side to sleep. He would be gone when she woke up, she knew, but she preferred it that way.

Saying goodbye, even if it was just for the day, wasn't something that she wanted to do.