A/N: This is the sequel to A Series of Politically Inappropriate Happenings. This story will be a little different from the previous two (which were quite different from the first installment of The Series). It was inspired by two things: first, a desire to try a slightly different genre other than Humour (a more serious one, one might say) and second, the criticism that Kuroro's relationship with Midoya is a little too perfect. So, this story took a while to come out.

Truthfully, I considered not publishing it because the more serious genres of Angst/Tragedy etc are not quite familiar to me and I'm not sure how my dear readers will take to it. However, I decided to just go for it, and I hope I don't let you down.

Disclaimer:I do not own Hunter X Hunter and all the characters affiliated with the manga/anime. All OCs are mine and mine alone. The views stated by the characters do not always reflect the views of the author either.

Welcome to Normalcy

Though Kuroro had known Pepeka and Midoya for some years now, this was the first time he had ever heard that Pepeka had a sister. In fact, it had never occurred to him that Pepeka might actually have family. In hindsight, that was a silly thought of course; presumably Pepeka came from somewhere, as disturbing as that image was. So, in an attempt to find out where this somewhere was, as they collected their luggage at the Agocchi International Airport, he asked Midoya for some background on Kikita Timbal.

As it turned out and to his never-ending surprise, Midoya had known Kikita years before she knew Pepeka. "She was helping some evil people rob a protected historical site while I was protecting the historical site," Midoya told him. "Since we were on opposite sides, we ended up fighting each other. It made for quite a spectacular battle."

"Who won?" Kuroro asked curiously. He didn't know many people who can take Midoya in a head-on fight. He knew even less people who can take Midoya in a one-on-one and survive.

"You know, surprisingly we haven't reached a decision yet." Midoya pursed her lips. "The site was robbed clean and the evil people were dead, so it should be a draw… I guess? Oh, I still have some of the relics in one of my storage facilities because I couldn't figure out how to get rid of them. You can take a look someday if you like. There aren't many books, but there are some quite expensive statues from the site I was protecting." She paused. "I did mention that I robbed the site I was supposed to protect…?"

"Thank you for the offer," Kuroro said, wondering how that had happened. "So how did you end up as allies?"

As it turned out, despite their rocky beginnings, the two of them had kept in contact. "Because I'm useful to her and she's useful to me," Midoya said. Another thoughtful pause later, she added, almost sheepishly, "I know where the good food in York Shin is and she knows the best bars in Agocchi. We both like fireworks and killing stuff. She's good with hair stuff too, though I'm better with makeup. We did manicures together once and ruined it right after by getting into a fight, so we pretty much decided manicures are wasted on us and got drunk instead." A pause. "When I say we got into a fight, I mean we ended up wrestling a bear. Not that we killed it, because Kikita loves bears, but it was a great fight nonetheless. The bear kept trying to bite off my head; it's quite a sweetie, that dear. Oh, and Kikita's really good at making Pepeka turn red."

Kuroro wasn't sure why that would be considered a unique and irreplaceable skill, but he let it slide and nodded at Midoya to continue. "So why is she helping us?" he asked.

"For the bears, of course," Midoya replied wryly. "And lions and tigers, and all the other endangered creatures of this world." It seemed that at the moment, Kikita Timbal was a Poacher Hunter, a hunter who dedicated herself to protecting endangered species, hunting down poachers and putting an end to the organisations behind poaching. Normally based in the Kyne Islands, she had moved to Agocchi to take down the rich people behind the poaching trade in the Kyne Islands. "The Mafia, of course," Midoya, stating the obvious, said. "No one else in the entire world wears as much leather and fur as the Mafia."

"Of course," Kuroro agreed.

And, given that Kikita Timbal had a major bone to pick with the Mafia, she had expressed few qualms about the murder of Armando Basilio. "She has met the man," Midoya told him with an ironic little smile on her lips, "He did not make a very good impression on her." At Kuroro's inquisitive look, she added, "He turned up for a meeting about the conservation of endangered animals wearing the skinned fur of a Leo Magicae Parva over his shoulders. It was the last of its kind and he had skinned it just so he could make a point."

"Charming."

"Most certainly. At any rate, you see now why Kikita is very motivated to help us."

"Indeed I do," Kuroro agreed, watching her watch out for her luggage, his own black duffel bag already resting at his feet, "but the question remains: is she competent enough to help us? Given that this is Pepeka's sister we're talking about, you will understand if I have my doubts."

"Oh, you'll see," Midoya said with a wicked little smile playing around her lips as she dragged her luggage, a blue duffel bag with camel trimmings, off the conveyor belt.

"I look forward to it," Kuroro told her sincerely as they made their way out of the arrival hall.

The moment they exited the glass doors, Kuroro found himself greeted by a large, colourful, weaved sign that declared he was very welcome in the great city of Aggochi. Raising his eyebrow at the colourful sign, Kuroro looked around the crowd, noticing immediately the presence of large numbers of people wearing ethnic tribal outfits.

"The people here are very proud of their heritage," Midoya told him, looking around idly. "You'll see a lot more of this in the architecture and restaurants. It makes for quite an interesting visit, if you are into examining tribal Diasporas in the urban centres."

"Ah, one day then," Kuroro said, taking in the sounds of some kind of tribal music with plenty of drums and bone chimes. "Bonolenov would like this place," he mused. "I do believe he misses his tribe sometimes. Not everyone in the Ryodan is into dancing and music like he is."

"Who is that?" Midoya asked, still looking around.

"A Ryodan mem…"

Whatever Kuroro was about to say was lost when a loud, powerful, distinctly feminine voice boomed, "OH MY GOD, YOU FUCKING BITCH!"

All traffic in the arrival hall froze as the powerful voice thundered through the air. With the reflexes of a very fast person, Kuroro dropped his duffel bag and reached for his Nen, preparing himself for an attack by an army of One Star Hunters.

"Oof!" Someone to his right declared and Kuroro turned to look.

"Hey! Watch it!" someone else shouted.

Kuroro narrowed his eyes, trying to peer through the crowd. Eventually, his eyes picked up a figure pushing through the crowd towards them, causing bystanders to protest and cry out. But no one stepped forward to stop the figure.

"BITCH! WHERE ARE YOU?"the figure thundered again and Kuroro raised his eyebrow. This was not quite how he expected a One Star Hunter to launch an attack…

Abruptly, the figure burst to the crowd and Kuroro's eyebrow went up even further. Before him stood a gorgeous Amazonian of a woman, tall, tanned, blonde and built like an Olympic athlete. Kuroro stood a little below six feet and this woman was even taller than him. Her shoulders were broader too and she had a lot more muscle than he did. Her hair was short, cropped but obviously well-cared for. Her body, obviously honed for physical work, was dressed in a bright pink sports bra and neon green shorts. She would have been considered masculine if not for a gorgeous, strikingly handsome face, with high cheekbones, full lips and blazing blue eyes framed by thick, golden lashes.

Her Nen was also blazing, but Kuroro wasn't too concerned about that since there was no aggression in her Nen. She didn't seem to be attacking them though the fearsome way she glared past him at Midoya had him reconsidering that assumption.

"Bitch!" the woman repeated in a much softer voice as she came up closer, though her eyes still blazed with rage. "You stupid, useless whore!"

"Oh shut up," Midoya replied with cold anger in her voice. "You're being too noisy, you crass, brutish, ignorant berk."

"Don't get me started on this!" the woman growled, one hand reaching out to grip the front of Midoya's blouse. "I can't believe what I heard! You're dating the Dancho of the Genei Ryodan? And you attacked the Fort! Without me! And you're screwing the infamous Kuroro Lucifer without me! What the fuck? I thought you loved me!"

Kuroro's eyebrows disappeared into his white bandana.

"Oh, get over yourself. You know I don't do threesomes well, being a somewhat selfish and possessive person when in bed." Midoya crossed her arms and somehow glared down her nose at the much taller woman. "Now, let go of me before I disarm you – literally."

The woman sneered. "I would like to see you try, you inbred fuck up."

Midoya's eyes narrowed and her hand clamped around the woman's wrist. From experience, Kuroro knew that Midoya had very, very strong hands, but the woman didn't even flinch when Midoya squeezed hard. "Let go."

"Not till you apologise for fucking Kuroro Lucifer without me."

An odd look crossed Midoya's face and her voice changed, gaining an edge of amusement. "Aren't you married, vowed to boring monogamy with one man for the rest of your miserable life?" she asked, and there was a slight tremor of laughter in her voice.

"Oh fuck!" the woman exclaimed, her lips twitching up at the sides and her eyes widening with mock surprise. "I can't believe I forgot!"

"Your memory is notoriously bad, Kikita, but I refuse to believe you forgot you have a husband." A smile was creeping around Midoya's lips, her anger fading too quickly to have been genuine.

"Oh fuck you," the woman said and abruptly broke into a familiar brilliant smile Kuroro had seen on another foul-mouth Hunter before. "I missed you, you fucking ass-wipe."

"And I missed you too, you obnoxious dozy," Midoya replied, smiling just as widely.

Then to Kuroro's amazement, they clutched each other's hands and giggled. "What's going on?" he asked cautiously, and was stumped when Midoya ignored him and continued whispering something to the woman that had them giggling again. "Midoya?" he repeated in a louder voice, wondering what this woman had done to hypnotise Midoya and whether he had to slap Midoya back to full consciousness or risk her attacking him in a fit of insanity.

To his relief, Midoya looked at him and seemed to register his presence. "Oh dear, my manners," she said, looking slightly embarrassed. "Kikita, this is Kuroro, said Dancho of the Genei Ryodan and my current lover. Kuroro, Kikita, Poacher Hunter and Pepeka's sister."

The woman, that he had already known was Kikita Timbal from her startling resemblance to her younger brother, turned sharp blues eyes on him and her full, pink lips parted in surprise. "Oh fuck! He's hot! He's beyond hot! He's way hotter than rumour said! He's a fucking gorgeous, sexy piece of man-flesh!" she cried. "Why did I get married before you found this piece of ass? Why?"

"Pleased to meet you too," Kuroro replied drolly.

Midoya laughed. "Don't mind her," she told Kuroro with a smile. "Everyone knows monogamy is bad for the soul, and after three months of blissful matrimony, her soul is obviously in many, pathetic, sex-starved pieces."

"I wish you wouldn't say that in front of me," a soft male voice said with gentle amusement. "It makes me sound like a manky little muppet is what it does."

Even after hearing the voice, it took a while for Kuroro to realise that there was another man standing next to him, apologetically shooing curious bystanders away. Now that Kuroro saw him though, he had to wonder how he had missed him in the first place. He was as tall as the woman he had come with after all, though that was where the similarities ended. While Kikita looked to be in her early thirties, this man looked at least a decade older, with soft, brown hair dusted with grey at the temples. His face was plain but kind, filled with smile lines and wrinkles. His eyes were small, brown and covered with horn-rimmed glasses. His limbs were pale and slender, but soft, and he had a bit of a tummy. If he had walked into Meteor City, he would have been conned, robbed and murdered within seconds. He just had 'victim' written all over him.

While Kuroro was busy convincing the street rat in him to not murder the stranger, Midoya reached out and grasped the man's hand in a gentle handshake. "John, dear. How are you?" she said fondly. "You must forgive my manners. I sometimes forget that some people do revel in matrimony. Kuroro darling, this is John Smith, John, this is Kuroro Lu… ah, my fiancé. John is Kikita's husband."

"Good morrow, good sir!" the man said cheerily, offering his hand. "It's a right pleasure meeting you."

"Pleasure's all mine," Kuroro lied easily, shaking a soft hand. The moment he touched the man's skin, he frowned in confusion. There was something… wrong with this man. He couldn't quite place a finger on it, but there was something about this man that made him feel different from Midoya or anyone else Kuroro knew. "Are you a Hunter?" he asked curiously.

The man's brown eyes widened in surprise. "Hunter?" he exclaimed. "Me? Goodness, no! Not at all. That's a right joke there! Me, a Hunter? Nah, I'm no good at things like that."

"Then what are you?" Kuroro asked suspiciously, still trying to figure out what felt wrong about this man.

"I'm an accountant," the man said, laughing. "I work in an office. Just a plain ol' boring nine-to-five job with the Ministry of Finance."

For a moment, the words did not register properly in Kuroro's mind. He knew he was hearing what he was hearing, but wasn't sure he was really hearing what he was hearing "An office worker?" he asked cautiously. "You mean you work in an… office? At a desk? With a…" The memories of movies watched with Midoya were dragged to the surface, "computer? And hot coffee? And people walking around with tensed expressions on their faces talking about graphs and things like that?"

John Smith blinked. "Why yes, that's what I said," he said confusedly. "Was I stammering?"

Ignoring the question, Kuroro tilted his head and regarded the man with wide-eyed fascination. "You mean accountants weren't invented by television? People actually work in offices?"

John Smith blinked some more. "I must have been stammering like a wazzack if you didn't get what I say," he laughed awkwardly. "Of course people work in offices. I mean… is it that rare?""

"I have never met someone who works in an office before," Kuroro told him, amazement colouring his voice. "How bizarre is this. What is it like?"

"Well…" the man looked flustered. "I go to work at nine and I leave work at five. That's about it. Now, don't you go misunderstanding me here, it's a jolly good job that pays for the house but…"

"You leave work? How is that possible?" Kuroro pressed the tips of his fingers to his chin in astonishment. "You mean… you don't work after five?"

"Y… yes?"

"But what if something comes up?"

"Why, I deal with it tomorrow."

"But what if it's urgent?"

"Urgent? Usually it can wait a few hours. I mean… I'm an accountant."

"But what if you need to steal a diamond by a certain time? Or what if someone needs to be dead before you can do a certain job?"

"That never… never happens in my line of work, Kuroro. Does that happen in anyone's line of work? I mean… Are you quite alright? You look quite pale. Your blood sugar must be low is what I think it is. Do you need some coffee?"

"My goodness," Kuroro said, hand still on his chin as he stared at the man. "How incredible is this, a job where you can actually… put things aside for another day. How strange and bizarre! Midoya dear, why have you never told me about this odd job, this… accountant job, before?"

"Why Kuroro, I am as amazed as you," Midoya replied, and Kuroro could hear her trying not to laugh.

Suddenly, he understood what was wrong with the man. "You don't know Nen," Kuroro said in bewilderment, gripping the man's hand again so he could verify his hypothesis. That was what he was feeling; Nen that was untrained, Nen that was allowed to flow freely and messily because it had never been refined before. It was… incredible, it was so hard to believe. How could anyone survive in this world without Nen? What if he got attacked by a magical beast or a mafia thug in a helicopter? If Midoya hadn't been with him when his Nen had been sealed, he would have been dead by now.

A nervous finger pushed the glasses up. "What… what is Nen?" John asked hesitantly.

"What is Nen?" Kuroro cried in dismay.

"No, he doesn't," Kikita Timbal said loudly, looking just as amused as Midoya. "My John is just an accountant." To Midoya, she added, "Your Kuroro is such an amazing joker. Look at all the funny jokes he is making. This is going to be such a fun vacation for you."

"But of course, Kikita, I am only so glad you are willing to host us while my dear fiancé and I tour Agocchi," Midoya said firmly, taking Kuroro's hand and leading him away from a confusedly smiling John. Once they were out of earshot, she whispered, "Dear, John's understanding of Kikita's job is limited to what it is 'called'. He believes that being a Poacher Hunter means she spends her time nursing abused animals in nature reserves instead of fighting desperate men with Nen-powered carbines. That is how many Hunters like the public to see them, as non-threatening, law-abiding, peaceful citizens, and Kikita is still trying to figure out how to break the news to her gentle, timid, accountant John that she is perfectly capable of shooting a man's eye out from three hundred feet away with a Nen-reinforced pebble."

"Oh," Kuroro said, though he didn't quite understand. Abruptly, another thought hit him and he whispered, "Goodness… Midoya. I think I understand this now. She's your friend. No, not just any friend; she's a real friend to you. Someone you actually trust and someone you would help… without asking for anything in return."

Midoya blinked up at him. "Why yes," she said awkwardly. "That is true. I mean… we do go shopping together and stuff. And I like her hair. She has very nice hair. I wouldn't look good with cropped hair, as useful as it is."

"I didn't know you were capable of having friends like normal people," Kuroro mumbled. "I never even thought it was possible for you to be friends with normal people." At that, Midoya laughed.

"Yes dear, welcome to my sordid other-life," Midoya quipped, taking his hand and leading the still-shocked Kuroro out of the airport. "We've got places to go and things to do, so let's head out now."

It turned out that where they were heading was the house Kikita and her husband shared in the nice, pleasant part of town where people lived in homely houses with nicely-tended gardens, and where the crime rate was as low as the racial diversity in the area. Just by being there, Kuroro was certain Midoya and him had doubled the crime rate, quadrupled the racial diversity, and lowered the minimum age by forty years.

After a short drive during which Kikita and Midoya sat in the back seat, alternately giggling like little girls and insulting each other caustically, while Kuroro sat in the front and relentlessly questioned an increasingly flustered John about the intricacies of his peculiar lifestyle, the car turned into a driveway framed by various types of pretty, colourful flowers. The house, a two-storey bungalow (plus attic), was strikingly similar to Pepeka's apartment. The walls were clean of any form of graffiti and painted a beautiful cream-colour. The roof appeared to be clear of any kind of rubbish and was an unassuming brown. The windows were framed by plain yellow curtains. Even from the driveway, Kuroro caught the delicious scent of spices and meat.

"This is not the place I envisioned we would be staying in while we plot the murder of a mafia boss," Kuroro whispered to Midoya as they climbed out of the car.

"Welcome to normalcy," Midoya murmured as she walked past him.

"It… will take some getting used to," Kuroro told her hesitantly.

"Don't worry," Midoya laughed, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, "we're only dropping by here before we go to a hotel. It's for John's benefit; we are supposed to be on vacation, visiting Kikita and all that kind of stuff."

"Oh good, because the windows disturb me. How can anyone live in a place with windows like that? There no shutters or bars on the windows. Furthermore, I can see right in from here, and if I can see inside from here, a sniper from the house across the road can too. It's horribly dangerous."

"Yes dear, I'll let Kikita know," Midoya said patiently.

"An excellent idea," Kuroro agreed and followed her into the house.

Immediately, the resemblance to Pepeka's residence came to a shocking, perfumed end. As homely and as cosy as Pepeka's house was, it was still ultimately a bachelor's pad, and it showed in the clean, plain furniture and minimal decoration. This house however, was obviously designed to be a family house, and that showed in the wedding pictures lining the flowery wallpaper, the vases of roses and violets on counters, the smell of powdery air freshener in the air, and the pictures of people resembling John Smith on the wall.

Interestingly, other than two pictures of an awkwardly smiling Pepeka, one where he was holding his Hunter's license (obviously newly acquired) and a more recent one where he was wearing an ill-fitting suit and standing next to a beaming John Smith in a tuxedo, there were no other pictures of people resembling the Timbal siblings in the house.

"Are Pepeka and Kikita orphans?" Kuroro asked Midoya as he studied a picture of five adults resembling John Smith crooning over a tiny creature that might have been a squashed monkey or a human baby.

"Nope!" Kikita said from behind him. "Our parents are still alive the last I checked."

Kuroro smiled charmingly. "I did not mean to pry," he said smoothly. "I was merely curious why there are no mementos of them."

"No worries. I don't keep pictures of them around because they are total douchebags who pretty much disowned us after I ran away from an arranged marriage and Pepeka got fucked up the ass by another pair of douchebags," Kikita said brightly. "Coffee anyone?"

Well. That was news. "Black," he told her, glancing at Midoya for answers, a look she promptly ignored.

"I want sugar in mine. And Kikita, Pepeka will be angry you told Kuroro that. He hates to look bad in front of Kuroro," Midoya said mildly. "He has a crush on me and thus quite understandably detests Kuroro since we're doing each other."

"He'll get over it!" Kikita shouted from the kitchen.

Kuroro fixed an astonished stare on Midoya. "I didn't know you realised Pepeka has a crush on you," he told her. "I thought you were utterly oblivious to the fact that he stares at you as if you were a goddess descended upon the earth, which is frankly quite ridiculous, because no self-respecting goddess would listen to the kind of music you listen to."

In reply, Midoya gave him a mildly exasperated look. "Do I look like an idiot to you?" she scolded. "Of course I know Pepeka has a crush on me. He wears his feelings on his face all the time." She shrugged. "It's just easier to pretend I don't know. It saves me from having to actually talk about it." She shuddered in horror in a way she wouldn't have when faced with a flesh-eating Juwasi. "I can't even begin to imagine that conversation."

"Oh, you shouldn't say that, lassie," John said from behind them. "I personally think it would be better to end his hopes so he can search for another woman." He smiled kindly at Kuroro and Midoya, evidently having gotten over Kuroro's interrogation of him. Apparently accountants are quite resilient people; Kuroro had seen hardened criminals crack under less. "Take a seat, make yourself comfortable. It's a right fine day to sit around and have some coffee," he said benignly, gesturing to a soft, pink couch.

"Thank you," Kuroro said, lowering himself onto the couch. Then remembering that he was playing a tourist visiting friends in an interesting, touristy city, he added, "Your house is very lovely."

"Isn't it?" John beamed proudly. "I designed and chose everything. Kikita is just useless when it comes to indoor decorations. I let her deal with the security system though. I thought she would know more about that than I would. And I was right. That woman has a right mind for that kind of thing. Me, give me some wallpaper, some catalogues and some flowers, and I'm a happy man, is what I am."

"Wonderful," Kuroro murmured, pulling a cushion with a cross-stich of a baby on it from behind him so he could lean back. He settled it on his lap, the baby's face down, because he couldn't stand staring at its face. Why was it smiling? Wasn't it aware that infants, more so than anyone else in the world, were most vulnerable to predators, whether human, bestial or microbial? Why should it be happy with being that young and vulnerable? Was it plotting something of an evil and nefarious nature? Kuroro never trusted anyone who looked that happy all the time. He wondered what it said about John Smith that he liked things like this, but he didn't wonder much. Far be it for him to judge a man for liking flowers and suspiciously-happy babies.

"So," John said, dropping down on the matching loveseat. "When is the wedding?"

Kuroro stared blankly. Having just found out barely an hour ago that he was apparently engaged to Midoya meant he had no idea what the back story was. He wasn't even sure what a reasonable time period would be for a wedding. Did they take as long as funerals? Was it possible to hold a wedding for a fortnight? Do people burn their enemies alive during weddings as they did during funerals? Fortunately, Midoya, obviously recognising his confusion, said smoothly, "We haven't quite decided yet. We're taking our time, searching for the perfect house and all that." Ah, so people look for perfect houses when they get married. Good to know, though he had to wonder how anyone ever got married in that case. Kuroro had never seen a perfect house in his entire life.

"Oh, that's a fine thing to hear," John said, sounding genuinely cheerful. "I heard the two of you live in York Shin now?"

"Yes," Midoya said and Kuroro just kept the polite smile on his face, because he wasn't sure if that was supposed to be the case. "But York Shin is so… uh… crowded, you know? Not good for uh… uh… babies and all that."

The smile slipped a little but Kuroro kept it on through sheer force of will. The thought of Midoya breeding an army of tiny Midoyas was terrifying to say the least. It was undoubtedly one of the first signs of the Apocalypse along with the Four Horsemen, the appearance of the Kraken and global famine.

John either didn't know Midoya well or he was an atheist and didn't believe in the apocalypse because his face brightened up even more. "Babies! That is as sweet as mud-pie, I'd say!" he exclaimed. "How many children do you want? Kikita and I haven't decided yet. Maybe we'll try for one next year if we can work it around our careers somehow. It'll be a right doodly-doo if we can have some cute little Kikitas running around."

Ugh, now he had images of these two people making babies in his mind. Since that was an utterly horrible image, Kuroro tried to imagine the tall Amazonian pregnant instead and failed completely. It was actually easier envisioning Pepeka pregnant… Oh… oh, his imagination just went to work and what a foul image it had conjured. Pepeka breeding. That was the stuff of nightmares. Not the apocalyptic kind, mind, but more of the… maggots on food and flies in cake kind. Gross, nausea-inducing, but not exactly cause for panic. "Oh yes," Midoya said, smiling widely and holding his hand gently. "Babies are so adorable. I could just eat them up." The image of Midoya eating a baby came as a relief after that and Kuroro relaxed into the seat. He caught her eye and smiled at her in gratitude, and she smiled back with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Me too!" John exclaimed obliviously. "I hope our children get my sweetie-sweet's genes though. Look at me. I'm two years younger than her and I look ten years older. It's a right shame when we walk out and people think I'm her dad!"

Ah. That would be the effects of Nen of course, but he wasn't supposed to mention that. Midoya laughed politely and Kuroro, unsure of what else to do, joined her. Fortunately, just as the conversation started to slide into an awkward silence, Kikita reappeared at the entrance of the kitchen.

"Baby, I can't find the sugar," she said. "Will you run down to the store and buy some for me?"

"Of course, my kitty-cat." John climbed to his feet with an embarrassed smile. "I am so sorry; I have no idea how that happened. I'm sure I bought some yesterday. I'll be right back. Cheerio!"

The moment he stepped out of the house, Kikita emerged from the kitchen and plopped a two pound bag of sugar onto Kuroro's lap. "I can't believe I am throwing away five zennis for your sake. Get rid of it when you leave later, and for god's sake, don't let John see it," she said curtly.

"I love how open your marriage is," Midoya commented wryly as Kuroro stared blankly at the large bag of sugar on his lap. "The way you tell your husband everything is so delightful."

Kikita scowled. "Fuck you," she growled. "I fully intend to tell John about my work, okay? Just in bits and pieces. You know what happened the last time I tried to tell Sean what I do, like… on the day of the wedding."

"He left you at the altar," Midoya said with mock sadness. "Why do you ever bother getting married anyway?"

Kikita scowled some more. "I actually love John," she grumbled. "And he wanted to do the monogamous thing, alright? And I just figured, well shit… if it makes him happy… Besides, it wouldn't interfere with my career and stuff. And we're doing fine too, mind you, little Miss Mafioso. It's just the whole explaining part… I mean, John doesn't even like killing cockroaches! How do I explain to a man who screams at cockroaches rather than crushing them that I kill people for a living?"

Kuroro cleared his throat. "Why didn't you marry another Hunter?" he asked with what he felt was quite a great deal of reason. "Another Hunter would understand the nature of your work a lot better than the average person."

To his horror, Midoya and Kikita giggled in stereo. "I tried," Kikita said with a wicked smile.

"She tried," Midoya agreed, wearing a twin to Kikita's smile on her face.

"You tried?" Kuroro questioned cautiously.

"He's six feet under now."

"With a stake through his heart."

"And his head sliced off."

"By the marriage certificate. Poetic justice, we agreed."

"Got that right, girl. You're the only person in the world who gets me. We're motherfucking BFFs for life, bitch."

"I really hate it when you say that. It makes you sound blonde. Oh wait, you are blonde."

As Kuroro stared at them, Kikita grinned and said, "Hunters make the worst marriage partners. We're never around, we're always off doing dangerous things, and we get so violent when we're fucking pissed off."

"Advice taken," Kuroro said dryly. "Good thing I can't legally get married. Anyway, given that you have obviously sent your husband on a false errand, can I assume that you intend to discuss our real reason for being here now?"

"Yes." Immediately, the gorgeous face because solemn as she leaned towards them. "Armando Basilio," she said softly, menacingly. "You want him dead. So do I."

"We are in agreement then." Kuroro smiled faintly. "Since Basilio is based in Agocchi like you, I assume you have a file on him."

"You got that right in one, sugar-pie." From a colourful, floral bag, Kikita retrieved a folder and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. "Everything you need to know about Armando Basilio is in there." Settling back, Kikita went on, "I can give you a quick summary if you like."

"Go ahead," Kuroro said, flipping open the folder.

According to Kikita, thirty year old Armando Basilio was the current head of the Basilio family. He was a shrewd businessman, handsome as the devil and just as evil. He made his business dabbling in human suffering, and he did it with a cruel joy. Under his rule, the Basilio family had, through taking over the other Mafioso in business, become richer and more powerful than it had ever been. Anyone who fought back had been squashed brutally. More importantly, Armando Basilio was a Single Star Treasure Hunter and a powerful Nen-user who had amassed an army of similarly ranked Hunters under him.

"He's a fucking criminal who takes what he wants when he wants," Kikita growled, "and he doesn't care who or what he hurts to get it." She glowered with righteous fervour until Midoya cleared her throat delicately and cocked her head at Kuroro. Kikita stared for a moment with her mouth opened. "Oh. Erm. Which is totally different from the Genei Ryodan because they erm… are pretty cool and all that. And he is nowhere as good-looking as Kuroro," she finished lamely.

"My feelings are not hurt. The Ryodan doesn't really care who we hurt during our missions either," Kuroro said truthfully, holding up a picture of a strikingly handsome man with killer cheekbones, piercing green eyes and carefully styled sandy blonde hair. "This is the infamous Armando Basilio, I presume."

"Yes." Kikita's teeth ground together loud enough to be heard. "He's wearing alligator skin in that picture. He got that from Afriganas too, and it's fucking illegal to hunt alligators there."

"How awful," Kuroro said sympathetically, having regained his love for alligators after spending some time in Meteor City reacquainting himself with the lovely species there. Midoya very carefully looked as innocent as a school girl playing with dolls by herself in the corner of her bedroom.

"Having said that," Kikita said slowly, suddenly much too close to Kuroro for comfort, "your coat. Is that real fur and leather?"

"Faux fur and leather," Kuroro replied immediately. It wasn't exactly a lie either; he had no idea whether his coat was made from real animal parts or not. It could be. Who knows?

"Oh good," Kikita said, still grinning manically. "If not, I would have to kill you."

Kuroro raised an eyebrow. That was practically a line out of Midoya's mouth. "I see why you are such good friends with Midoya," he commented approvingly. "Back to discussing Basilio…" And off the subject of his clothes "It says in this file that he has a mansion in Agocchi. May I assume that is where we will strike at him?"

"Got that in one. Again." Kikita gave a fierce grin that was reminiscent of her little brother's. "Armando Basilio is a fucking mole who disappears for months on end. However, one day from now, he is holding a ball at his mansion where the rich and famous will gather to chat and wear dead animals on their bodies."

"Security will be tight," Kuroro pointed.

"Über tight," Midoya agreed sweetly. "All those dear One Star Hunters, gathered in one place to die. I feel as bad for them as I feel for green eggs and hams." Kikita giggled. Kuroro stared. "Old joke," Midoya explained, patting his arm.

"Oh," Kuroro said, and felt very left-out. "So one day from now, we are going to break into Armando Basilio's house and kill him. How are we going to do that?"

"We're going to get an invite to the ball," Midoya said confidently. "It is a mafia ball. I may be able to do something about that. I was thinking of contacting…"

"I thought you've been kidnapped and ravished?" Kuroro interrupted. "Are you sure you want to use your mafia connections when you're supposed to be missing?"

"Kidnapped, ravished, but still head of the Kito estate," Midoya pointed out cheerfully. "We heads of estates have excellent ways of being kidnapped, ravished and still functional at the same time."

"Ah, I love all this illegal shit," Kikita said happily. "Are we going on a spree anytime soon, Midoya?"

"Once this mess is cleaned up, sure," Midoya agreed, looking more relaxed than Kuroro had ever seen her. "Kuroro can come along if he wants to."

"I don't shop," Kuroro told her confusedly. She should know his idea of 'getting groceries' is walking through the mart and sneaking things into the ever-useful Fun Fun cloth.

"Who said anything about shopping?"

"We are totally talking about killing something."

"Oh." Kuroro thought about that. "Then I am quite interested. I do enjoy the occasional massacre or slaughter of humans."

Kikita sighed wistfully. "Your boyfriend is awesome," she told Midoya. "I wish my husband would go out and kill things with me too. But he doesn't even like watching horror movies. He likes chick flicks. I don't understand why they're called 'chick' flicks though. They are obviously designed for romantic people, not baby birds."

Since Kuroro felt annoyed about being called Midoya's 'boyfriend' but didn't want to kill Kikita until she had helped them kill Basilio, he said, "Midoya, you said you might have a way of finding tickets to the ball. Explain...?" He belatedly remembered Midoya wasn't Ryodan and turned the last word from an order into a request instead.

"Ah yes, about that, my dearest husband-to-be." Suddenly, Midoya's smile grew feral. "Since we're about to get married and have two point seven children…"

"Goodness, the images…"

"It's about time we take the next step in our relationship."

Kuroro gave her a look. "Midoya?" he questioned warningly. What he was warning her about, he had no idea though.

"It's about time," Midoya continued with great relish, "that you meet my family."

Kuroro's jaw dropped and he let it hang there unabashedly. "Your family?" he demanded, too disturbed by the look of utter horror and pity on Kikita's face to say anything else. "You have family you haven't murdered yet?"

The expression on Midoya's face was pure evil. "Oh yes, darling, I do. And I already know that you will love my dearest Aunt Annabella…"

A/N: I don't know if any of you have noticed, but the pace for this story is a little slow. The reason for it is that this story has gotten too long and I have a feeling I'm going to have to break it into two separate stories. So, I hope no one minds the slower pacing. I am trying out a slightly different style of writing, so I am still figuring out what works and what doesn't. Do give me feedback if you have any; it will be greatly appreciated! Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Trivial: When Midoya said that the heads of estates had the remarkable ability to remain functional even when kidnapped and ravished, she hadn't been kidding. Once, at the age of seventeen, she had been kidnapped and ravished by her ex-boyfriend for half a year. Yet, she still managed to start and win a war against a rival family, build two new business enterprises, expand her estate twofold and buy over an entire country. It was an extremely remarkable performance for one so young, most mafia heads agreed.

However, in general, it is agreed that the award for the Head That Remained the Most Efficient While Kidnapped and Ravished goes to Eamon Hendrik. According to the Historical Record of Mafia Heads, Hendrik, Head of the Hendrik Estate, had been kidnapped in his late teens. Though he had remained missing for the next seventy years, the Hendrik estate, under his rule, remains one of the most prominent and rich estates in the entire world. As the Hendrik estate butler likes to say, "Mr Hendrik is most inspired after two rounds in the sack. I don't know who kidnapped and ravished Mr Hendrik, but the Hendrik estate is extremely grateful for it."