The familiar sounds of Count D making his Tea Time entrance completely silenced the other creatures muted chatterings. All eyes, save for those blissfully closed, fell expectantly onto the, as yet, oblivious shop owner.

"I have some delicious new…" Count D, not only stopped in mid-sentence, but froze in place when his mind completely registered that T-Chan was lying contentedly against Leon's leg…and allowing the detective to pet him…

Bi-colored eyes met matching blue in utter bemusement. "What—" was all the Count could get out.

Leon twitched a shoulder casually, "Tea's getting a little old, so I figured, hey, why not make myself a T-Chan Smoothy?" He looked down at the totetsu and seemed to make a brief assessment of the creature. "Might be a while before he's completely liquefied, though. Guess it'll be the tea 'till then."

Vaguely aware that the Count was seeing a most unexpected scene, and wanting a little revenge for all the times he'd been denied having the detective for lunch, T-Chan swished his tail a couple of times to convey his approval.

Ten-Chan strolled around to the front of the sofa, stopping on Leon's left, then (to Leon's eyes) leaped up to perch next to him (to everyone else there, he'd simply walked to the seat next to the detective and sat down). Stretching his neck to peer over the human's lap, he seemed to examine T-Chan for moment. "I'm afraid it's hopeless…" he announced mournfully, "…he's been brought over—to the Dark Side…" His head bowed and his right hand came up to cover his eyes in mock sorrow.

Leon's belief that Count D's 'residents' couldn't actually talk was once again trying to crumble. The multiple tails of this white fox was unnerving enough, but it seemed to saying something. He almost got the feeling that it was making some sort of remark about…T-Chan being defiled perhaps. Well, it didn't seem like genuine remorse—rather, it almost appeared to be sarcasm. Why not run with it?

Before Ten-Chan realized what the detective was about to do, Leon snaked his other hand behind him. Warm, strong fingers closed carefully around the shape-shifter's neck and began working seductively. "Resistance is futile—you WILL be assimilated…" Leon had leaned over to recite the Borg slogan in Ten-Chan's ear, in a low, and almost sultry voice.

For a second, Ten-Chan froze, but then mentally registered a challenge. Bringing his hand back down, he met Leon's gaze—then turned his head and lifted his chin with eyes closed in dramatic defiance, "Never!" he proclaimed, "My will is many times stronger than that of…" His eyes suddenly opened when his scalp and spine began to tingle luxuriously, "…of…uh…um…" He licked his lips, eyelids opening and closing in slow blinks as his head began to sink slowly downward. "…my will…stronger…than…uh…than…" Almost as soon as his eyes closed for the last time, his body collapsed, and being a little end heavy over the sofa's edge, slid as though boneless to the floor. As he stared, with a not-quite-coherent expression up at the ceiling, his voice went on in a thick slur, "…stronger…than…than…uh…than…"

"…steamed rice?" T-Chan offered in a low mutter, after forcing an eye just open and long enough to look at his dazed housemate.

"…that works…" Ten-Chan muttered agreeably.

"…and that was just his left hand…" T-Chan murmured smugly.

Ten-Chan blinked a couple of times as his sluggish mind processed those words. "…oh—damn—" was all he managed to drawl before his eyes rolled up into his head and shut heavily.

Leon leaned back against the sofa lazily, as though this sort of thing was nothing out of the normal. Just for added effect, though, he brought his left hand up to his chin with the first two fingers pointed to mimic a gun. As if blowing out a candle, he blew a puff of air above his pointed fingers, then imitated the motion of spinning the imaginary weapon on his finger and slipping it into it's holster with smooth expertise.