Chapter 49
RecordingTheCrash & Livxwire

Disclaimer: Don't own; don't sue. Blah, blah, blah. You get the gist.

Summary: When evil does evil, the world continues to turn as expected. It's only when sheep start leading their own to the slaughter that it screeches to a complete halt. Faced with just what humans can do, it's hard not to feel betrayed. [Lavi x Lenalee, Kanda x Lenalee]

Note: Lavi getting his weapon? Check! Lavi getting fitted for his uniform coat? Check! Lavi pissing off Lenalee? Double check! Lavi getting his way in the end anyway? Triple check! Kanda may not be coming with the two of them to London, but you needn't worry. Lavi and Lenalee will get themselves into trouble eventually. And by eventually, I mean soon. Thanks so much for your support, guys! We really appreciate it a whole hell of a lot. Please continue keeping us on the straight and narrow. Enjoy.

Of Fittings and Misunderstandings

As the redhead hid behind his mentor, watching the rest of the scene unfold, like the good Bookman he was supposed to be, Lavi came to the conclusion that he wasn't sure if it was pure brilliance or just plain annoyance that Komui used to diffuse the near deadly situation he had stumbled upon. Either way, it was a pleasure to watch Kanda leave in a snide huff, tail tucked between the samurai's legs as he turned his back on the rest of the party, no longer wanting to participate in the social interaction. The victorious new recruit couldn't help but chuckle to himself, an action that only the old panda noticed, which earned the apprentice another ruthless glare.

Yeah, he was so going to get it later.

With the threat of danger no longer looming, the young scribe felt comfortable to return to his carefree and relaxed self, standing to his full height and taking the opportunity to stretch his long arms over his head with a yawn. With his guard lowered, no longer having to possibly fight for his life, the young Bookman was able to take in his surroundings, which was when the idiot finally noticed the close proximity of Komui and the gorgeous Lenalee.

Hey, wait a second!

Who the fuck was this guy?!

Yes, Lavi knew the lab-coated pervert was the director of the Science Department, but just who was Komui in relation to Lenalee?! What gave this bastard the right to drape his arm about the girl's shoulders, hugging her to his frame, obviously preventing her from going anywhere? It was clear by the exorcist's expression that the annoying man was a little too close for comfort and that she didn't care to be held so tightly in his grasp. Lavi couldn't help but furrow his brow, his counterfeit smile transforming into a scowl without him even realizing. In reaction, the boy's muscles tensed in anger, and if it wasn't for the old scribe standing in front of him, the idiot would have come forward to be of assistance.

So, yes, back to the original question …

Just who the fuck was this guy?!

Aware of how much the sincere feeling of outrage was shining through his apprentice's façade, Bookman elbowed his junior in the gut, a not so subtle reminder to keep emotions and attachments in check. They had a job to do after all, and petty jealousy was in no way helping complete that task. The jolt to his stomach was enough to remind the boy of his duty, the fake smile jumping back to his lips as if it had never left. However, as Lenalee and Bookman began their conversation, turning to walk toward the armory, Lavi wholeheartedly returned the glare Komui was already giving him.

It would take no fewer than three more hours for Bookman to finally take pity on his student and inform the young man of the director's familial relation to Lenalee. But in the meantime, hands shoved deep into pockets as petulantly as possible, Lavi followed after his mentor while the older man spoke with the pretty young lady, making her laugh, giggle and blush. The apprentice could tell the geezer had taken a liking to her, or as much of one as the scribe ever did, by the subtle smile he was giving the child. Despite the old man being a master thespian, the redhead had been around his teacher long enough to pick up subtle cues as to when Grandpa's responses were based in sincerity and when they were a façade. The nasty grump, Lavi had learned over the years, had a soft spot for children, intelligent and warmhearted spirits, and pretty girls.

Coincidentally, Lenalee was all three.

The redhead snorted.

Dirty old panda.

It wasn't long before the junior Bookman's entourage took a turn off the main path, finding itself in a large armory, the walls of which were filled with every sort of weapon imaginable. There were swords, axes, maces, darts, daggers, archery equipment, you name it. If it could possibly be used to inflict harm, it was in that room. Lavi's grin stretched from ear to ear as he surveyed the selection. It was any boy's dream come true.

The redhead couldn't help but step forward, trying not to drool as he went to fondle the weaponry, his attention drawn to a nice selection of daggers that sparkled in the light, the glint of the sharpened edges taunting him like the flash of a voluptuous thigh from under a short skirt. He didn't stop himself from sneaking a touch, letting his fingertips dance along a polished hilt, wanting nothing more than to feel how it weighed in his hand.

A loud and stern cough came from behind the distracted youth, a subtle reminder of the role the junior Bookman was supposed to play in their current chapter. The scribes might have been participating this time, but they were not to influence the outcome of the story. They were only there to record from an insider perspective, not fight the battle. Stay off the front lines, the young man was told. Play a supportive and defensive role, that was what the old coot had beaten into the redhead, literally, as they made their way to the Order.

With a disappointed sigh that the boy could not hold back, Lavi stepped away from deliciously enticing dagger set and shuffled his feet over to something more fitting for his part. The redhead took a stroll about the room, looking for something to catch his eye and keep him at a distance, but he couldn't find anything, his eye stealing glances back at the dagger case.

Otherwise, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

A projectile weapon was out of the question. Not only was it not Bookman Junior's style, but handling one wasn't his most skilled trait. A spear was also out of the question. The sheer length was clumsy for the redhead, which made his last training experience an utter disaster, in which he hurt himself more than his sparring partner. A staff was absolutely out of the question too, the young male unable to take the weapon seriously. How was he supposed to fight with an oversized twig? There was no way. Unfortunately, then, as Lavi went to make a second pass around the room, his options were coming up empty.

Bookman knew the dilemma the young scribe was having, leading the short old man to drum his fingers across his folded arms in an impatient and scolding manner.

Lavi realized he was getting on his mentor's nerves, but, honestly, just how was he supposed to pick something after those lovely ladies he caressed earlier? They were beautiful. They were perfect. The brash redhead knew the importance of their roles as Bookmen, but couldn't the old panda make an exception in regard to his weapon choice? Just this once? The youth huffed indignantly. It wasn't fair. He had made his decision, and the enchantresses were right over there, waiting for him.

With an agitated sigh, the young record keeper spun around to face his senior, leaning against the waist-high display case behind him with a disgruntled pout. The redhead didn't say a word, but the geezer knew exactly what the boy was thinking, which was why Bookman asked for a moment alone with his charge. Once it was just the two of them, Lavi went to make his argument.

"There ain't nothin' here, Gramps."

"Open your eyes, and actually look. Stop fixating on those knives."

The apprentice grumbled, reaching behind him and blindly grabbing the first weapon his hand came across, the item feeling small and pathetic in his grasp.

"Oh yeah?" the redhead growled, pulling the joke weapon out in front of him, waggling it before his teacher's gaze, the idiot thinking he was making a point. "How the hell am I supposed to fight with this?"

"I don't know, but you'll find a way," Bookman nodded as he turned his back on his imbecile of a student. "Because that's now your weapon."

Lavi finally looked down at what he held in his hand, a tiny, doll-like hammer, no bigger than six inches in length. The young man's eyes grew wide in shock as he examined the small, fragile weapon closely. The damn thing looked like a glorified toothpick.

"You're kidding, old man," the junior Bookman laughed, a bit of nervous dread lingering within his chuckles, especially when his mentor didn't respond and, instead, kept walking towards the door to signal to the others they were done.

"Wait, Panda! You can't be serious!" Lavi pleaded, taking a few frantic steps towards his cruel teacher, the conversation getting cut short as the evil midget informed Komui and Lenalee that they had made their selections.

Lavi's jaw fell open in shock. The crazy old coot wasn't joking, and, now, he was stuck with a weapon that couldn't even break up a children's tea party.

"Oh, an excellent choice," Komui clapped upon seeing the hammer the redhead held in his hand. "The Iron Hammer is a very unique weapon, no other's like it, and it's very selective in its master. You should feel special. Many have tried to acquire it for themselves but failed miserably at the task."

Bookman Junior blinked and returned his gaze to the toy that barely fit in his hand.

"… This?" his voice cracked with disbelief.

"Mm-hm," Komui nodded.

"… This?" the redhead asked again, raising a curious eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, most definitely," the director chirped back happily.

Bookman smiled victoriously.

Lavi furrowed his brow in annoyance, sending a scathing look towards the geezer.

Stupid old panda.

To his detriment, Bookman Junior entirely ignored the supervisor's subsequent, excited raving about a uniform fitting.

The unfortunate reality of war is that tragedy visits more often than anyone wants to be graced with its ugly presence, so it quickly becomes imperative for soldiers to learn how to cope when everything goes to shit. Lenalee would be the first to admit that she hadn't the most accommodating psyche when it came to accepting what she could not fix and moving on to the things that she could, but the strong wills of those around her to bounce back and keep smiling, despite the mess that remained after the unwanted guest finally left, kept her focused and strong. If she wasn't able to remain level-headed for herself, then she'd do it for her family and, especially, her brother. He had quite enough to deal with barring her anger, which flared every time a new coffin, undeserved, as always, arrived at Headquarters. Such negative emotions were also more easily ignored when everyone around seemed not to harbor them, at least outwardly. A mere two days after the funeral rite, the mess hall was once again back to its normal level of loudness. There were conversations echoing off the walls, accented by the clangs of eating utensils, and the lively atmosphere somehow made it less difficult to breathe.

One foot in front of the other, Lee collected her dinner from a pumped up Jerry, who had recently tried out a new recipe he wanted to collect reactions for from the few exorcists he managed to coax into giving his latest concoction a go, and settled once again into her favorite seat in the back of the cafeteria. Her table, however, wasn't empty this time around. In fact, it could have been categorized as almost full with excited scientists, who each spared a moment to warmly greet her before disappearing back into a huddle of white lab coats and pages upon pages of drawings.

Thoughtfully taking a bite of her meal, the brunette blinked owlishly, head cocked curiously to the side, as though the gesture would help her understand why it was that the men of the Science Department seemed to be playing designer, for the diagrams passed around between them were decidedly made in the shape of two coats, two uniform coats, the girl would wager. And it didn't occur to her until a tray of food was dropped off to her left that the Black Order had two new recruits to be fitted.

That's right.

Mercifully, the most recent cloud was accompanied by a silver lining, a courtesy that fate didn't often extend, which was perhaps why Bookman and his apprentice didn't so readily spring to Lenalee's mind. They were there now that she thought of them, however, and the almost familiar acid-green gaze that met her own questioning one made it difficult to forget them again.

Unlike the previous day, Lavi's entrance didn't attract all that much attention. His rough handling of his plate and silverware didn't echo with half as much force in a busy room as it had in a quiet one, so for the moment, if only for that moment, the redhead was all hers. Nonetheless, she knew that soon enough, his presence would send a ripple effect through the scientists swarming their notes at the table, but that wouldn't happen until she slid over just so to create room for the scribe to sit down. Lee dutifully did so regardless, feeling only an ounce of guilt at throwing the young man so heartlessly to the proverbial wolves.

Johnny bounced up to him immediately, eyes sparkling enough for Lavi to notice and even comment on. The thick layer of apprehension coating the record keeper's words tempted Lenalee to say something while amusedly watching the excited scientist wield his measuring tape like a weapon.

"Everyone just wants to protect Lavi, who has become our comrade."

And with that comforting statement, the girl placed a no less soothing hand briefly on the redhead's shoulder.

Lavi hadn't been at the Order very long, but there was one thing that became abundantly clear during his short stay: Headquarters was a tight knit group. Everyone was involved in everyone's business, and everyone knew what was going on with everything. There was no stone unturned, not an ounce of privacy. The whole thing was very unnerving to the apprentice Bookman. People were supposed to stay an arm length away and only come close, especially that close, when invited. As if to spite him, however, there were no boundaries with this group, making the whole social interaction thing rather uncomfortable.

Was this maybe the challenge the old panda was talking about?

Then again, as Lavi picked up this tray of food, he found the one bystander he wouldn't have minded getting more intimately acquainted with, who, coincidentally, just took a seat in a nicely tucked away corner. The table looked to be a little crowded, but the science nerds were too distracted to get in the redhead's way, so the suave bastard went to attempt to make his move.

Dropping his plate of food next to Lenalee, the record keeper gave a shy but dashing smile. Of course, the girl smiled back, offering him a seat at her side, which he gladly took. There was a bit of awkward silence that followed, and the young Bookman pushed his food around on his plate, waiting for the brunette to say something to him, which, as his usual lack of luck would have it, she didn't.

Weren't girls supposed to talk, talk, and never shut up? That's what the redhead thought, at least, but maybe you needed to get them started first? The junior Bookman wasn't really up on current social standards, especially not when it came to more than general acquaintance level interactions. Nonetheless, the seemingly bashful youth went to open his mouth to say something, though he didn't get very far.

"It's Lavi, right?!" Johnny leaned over and asked in an over exuberant fashion.

The redhead had to stop and blink with his good eye, slowly turning to the little mouse-haired dork that was ruining what moves the historian thought he had.

"… Yeah," the young man drawled, his tone showing his annoyance more than he intended it to.

"What are your measurements?" the scientist chirped back in question, undeterred, his words a bit too hungry, drool practically dripping from his mouth as he dangerously pulled out a measuring tape.

Lavi laughed nervously, trying to contain his rage at the annoying pipsqueak. "Why ya wanna know that?"

"I'm telling you," Tup chimed in, peering over his glasses-toting comrade. "It should be big and roomy to help accommodate his fighting style."

"But it shouldn't be too big," Mark piped up. "Too baggy is just as detrimental as too tight."

Lavi blinked again, looking not only confused and alarmed, but a bit scared as well. Just what in the hell were these idiots talking about?

"Everyone just wants to protect Lavi, who has become our comrade."

At that moment, the jumpy redhead felt a light caress at his shoulder, his normal, paranoid reactions causing him to violently flinch under the touch. Immediately, the Bookman turned, his bitter expression fading into a fake, soft smile accompanied by a nervous ruffle to his rust-colored spikes.

"A comrade, huh? I guess I should feel special," the scribe grinned, his mind begging to differ on the false sentiment he just conveyed. These guys were way too feely for his liking. Lavi pushed that thought aside however, he could deal with it, for the moment anyway, as his attention was now turned back to the object of his desire and her soothing voice. Although, the tape measure being pulled across his shoulders and down the length of his arm was certainly killing whatever mood he had managed to muster.

And here Komui led the redhead to believe that training was going to be the hardest part of his initiation. No such luck, of course, though, perhaps, that conclusion entered Lavi's head a bit too soon.

Sparring was something that Lenalee enjoyed doing quite a bit. Despite having been forced into combat early on in life, and against her will, fighting wasn't exactly an odious task to her. It was a relief sometimes, it was an escape others, and it was something that she did for the sake of her red pins on an old world map always. Sparring was just a variation of fighting. It was an adrenaline release without the danger, and it helped train new recruits for the challenges that they'd have to face out in the field. So whenever her brother asked, she was happy to oblige, because there was something insanely inviting about personally upping the chances of survival for the Black Order members that the brunette simply could not pass up. She was not surprised the next time Komui requested her presence at the sparring hall either because the redheaded boy she made the acquaintance of recently had not been tethered to their system in the way that everyone else had. No one fully knew his strengths or weaknesses yet, and without that knowledge, assigning him to matching missions became nigh impossible. Of course, there was no way to hide from herself that she didn't mind the thought of giving him a nice kick to the shins for his behavior towards Kanda either, but the wish was a secondary one. Mostly, Lee simply wanted to assure that he'd come back alive from his first assignment.

So she went without protest and shook his hand before the match started, like the good sport that she was, because her spirits were high and oh?

They stepped apart, and he didn't appear at all interested in assuming any sort of fighting stance that would contribute to defense or offense. So it took a moment to figure out why he was nothing but sloping angles and languid movements, shoulders full hunched, lips split in a grin, hands shoved deep into pockets, but something eventually clicked and oh.

Her disposition soured entirely within the span of a heartbeat because that son of a someone she would not condescend to name thought he could take her on with his hands in his pockets.

She was squeaking in protest before her feet hit the width of her shoulders, bringing her low and dangerous, and he has the audacity to stare at her legs and move not a muscle. So Lenalee decided right then and there that he deserved all that was coming to him, and what was coming to him was a bit more aggressive than what she could normally pull off towards her family members because she was incensed, and he still had his hands in his pockets.

Needless to say, pitching up to Lavi and around him was a cinch because he was not really watching her, only her legs, and there was nothing he could really do with his back turned and completely unguarded when the flat of her foot connected with his butt, accompanied by a resounding, marked snap that sent him stumbling forward. The brunette wasn't surprised to watch her mark regain his footing all too quickly and whirl to face her, but she was far from done with him yet.

"I suggest you defend," Lee chirped, deceptively lightly, before she was mere centimeters in front of him, a knee flying towards his abdomen.

Lavi already knew how to fight, but the old panda insisted that, even though they were going to be exorcists, the redhead pretend that he didn't. An expert in hand-to-hand, a demon with a dagger, the junior Bookman had to forget all of his training, put it on the back burner, and assume a supportive role during combat. Sit back and observe, let the cast dictate the story, and let the show play out around you. Bookman had beat it into his apprentice that he was not to become an active member, either within the Order or in the war they were there to transpose. The mentor knew his student could fight, that the boy enjoyed the sport on several levels, but the challenge was to have the restraint not to. Being the brash and arrogant youth that he was, however, the redhead heard what the geezer was saying but did not fully comprehend the lesson that Bookman was trying to teach him. At least not at that moment.

Standing at the edge of the sparing matt, across the way from Lenalee, the young man, more than confident in his skills, rolled his eyes at the exercise, knowing ahead of time that he could take the little lady. Saucy as the girl may have been, she was still petite and frail, hardly any muscle on her despite those toned thighs and curvy hips. Scoffing, Lavi turned his nose up, his eyes secretly gawking at those long, slender legs as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, convinced the whole endeavor was nothing more than a waste of his time, nothing more than a joke.

Oh how wrong he was.

The exorcist moved fast, faster than he had anticipated, the forceful and insulting kick to his butt causing the cocky redhead to stumble forward before catching his footing and turning back towards the slinky mongoose to give her an annoyed glare.

"I suggest you defend."

Lavi smirked, able to see Lenalee's next move, hunching slightly to block the knee to his abdomen with the flat of his forearm as his smirk slowly stretched into a conceited grin. To that, a loud cough came from the sidelines, a silent warning from the boy's mentor to remember their discussion leading up to the match, a reminder that this was an exercise in restraint, not in victory.

Bookman Junior groaned and rolled his eye. Reflexes clouded by his overwhelming self-confidence, the scribe missed Lee's next move; the exorcist dropped to one knee and swept Lavi's legs out from under him, causing the swollen-headed idiot to fall flat on his back, his pride wounded more than his physical form.

Ok, maybe he needed to start paying better attention.

She was surprised when he heeded her advice and defended just in the nick of time, a much too confident smirk uplifting a corner of his mouth into an expression that Lenalee found ridiculously unpleasant. Not because it wasn't handsome, quite on the contrary, but because it was a representation of him putting his hands back in his pockets, and, really, why couldn't he just take her seriously? Whatever amount of restraint the brunette has fluttered away with a jarring snap of its metaphorical wings, not lingering about long enough to keep her from dropping into a sweep and taking Lavi's feet out from under him in retaliation. The result didn't seem punishing enough, though, and before the young man had a chance to bounce back up, she managed to procure his headband as an afterthought.

Needless to say, Lee was pleased with herself for so successfully being a bother, but once she caught sight of the rust-colored mess of strands and spikes that she made fall to frame her opponent's face, the type of pleased that she was shifted into unknown, but warm, territory.

He rushed her much too quickly for the exorcist's liking, and she was forced to go on the defensive, even if she didn't have much of a chance to defend in the classical sense of the term; all the young woman could do was jump back, and back, and back, avoiding every strike sent in her direction. He was much stronger than she was, and he was fast, so fast, but not fast enough, apparently, for after securing his bandana around her wrist like a bracelet, Lenalee was able to duck under a punch and land one of her own against his stomach, a messy uppercut that clearly did absolutely no damage. The only thing the contact managed to accomplish was pause the fight while the brunette's fist opened and turned, pressing, palm-flat, into the granite of muscle under it.

"Holy …"

The single word that escaped her full lips might not have been particularly successful in articulating the thoughts crashing against the walls of her skull, but the sentiment got across regardless because Lavi grinned, and her mouth went dry in response.

It was only by some sort of miracle that Lee manages to make it out of her opponent's range of attacks in time not to earn herself an open-hand chop to the ribs for all the stalling she was doing.

Lavi landed hard on his butt, the air partly being knocked from his lungs due to the force of the impact. It was a lucky shot! At least, that's what the redhead told himself while nursing his wounded pride. A lucky shot aided by Bookman's distraction. A fluke, really. That was all it was, and as soon as the scribe stood up and recollected his thoughts, he'd politely go put the little lady in her place, but then, she stole his headband.

His fucking headband!

No longer having any support, the boy's hair fell into his eyes, hanging loose and shaggy against his head, the long strands getting in the way. With the pressure removed from his forehead, Lavi was aware of his handicap, his deformity feeling as if it was more exposed than it usually was, despite it actually being the opposite. A wave of vulnerability flooded the Bookman's senses, which, in turn, caused his hidden anger to flare. A snarl was on the redhead's lips as he went to stand, his body posture as much of a warning to his mentor as it was to his opponent.

"Lavi," the old coot warned, his voice calm to the others, but to his apprentice, the threat-filled warning was clear. It was a passive check between the two scholars, a reminder to the brash youth to remember the overall goal of their mission and not ruin the entire operation over a little sparring match. An idiot he might have been, but the redhead was still better than that.

The student growled in annoyance and waved the stupid panda off as he hunkered down, gathering his footing to lunge at Lenalee.

Fine.

If he couldn't let loose, if he couldn't fully fight back, then the junior Bookman would focus on something other than fighting, like mangling that pretty little outfit of hers. Ruining her clothes would certainly put the obnoxious brat in her place. Women liked their clothes, right?

It seemed like a logical connection at the time, while the boy's head was filled with anger and adrenaline, but it really wasn't.

Rushing his target, Lavi swung and missed, grabbing nothing but air.

What the hell?

So the record keeper moved faster, changing his direction of attack at the last minute only to have the girl slip from his grasp yet again.

No, seriously …

The scribe put a little zig in his zag, getting close enough to where Lenalee felt the need to attack, cutely delivering an uppercut to his stomach, which didn't even so much as tickle. Realizing her strike had no effect on her opponent, the exorcist placed the palm of her hand on the Bookman's abs, confirming that, despite being a supposed nerd historian, the jerk was as solid as a rock, the girl easily able to feel the tense muscles under his shirt. The gesture was a bit of a surprise, but not as much as the hushed, private whisper Lenalee shared with herself.

Lavi stopped his advance, standing smug and sure as he placed a cocky fist on his hip, giving the blushing girl a smile.

"Ya like what ya see, Lee?"

Of course, the little lady became flustered, giving the bastard the opportunity he needed to make his attack. Unfortunately, the Bookman over-compensated for her reaction, thinking the exorcist wouldn't be as distracted as she actually became. Landing his strike, taking a firm hold of the front of Lenalee's shirt, the redhead pulled with all his might, the material ripping free as he brought it high above his head, holding it to the heavens as his prize of victory.

"Oh yeah!" the overzealous, and completely oblivious, idiot proclaimed.

Of course, it took a moment for Lavi to realize what he had done, which was only prompted by the bashful squeak that came from behind him. Slowly turning his head, the young male witnessed a beautiful sight as an embarrassed and blushing Lenalee went to cover her chest, her ripped jacket and bra barely keeping her decent.

Lavi blushed horribly, although his spike in blood flow wasn't due to embarrassment.

"Uh …," the Bookman stumbled, trying to find the right words to explain. "This isn't what it looks like," he chuckled nervously, offering the shredded cloth, still held tight in his fist, back to its original owner.

It didn't seem as though the director was paying any attention because just about everything caught his eye more than the sparring match that he, himself, insisted upon, and Bookman was quickly trying to figure out if the man was truly daft or a brilliant actor while keeping his idiot apprentice in line. The boy was being more so a handful than usual, which the old scribe wasn't happy about because it was obvious that all of his warnings had fallen by the wayside, upon deaf ears, at this point. He was only just a bit hopeful that the redhead's oscillation from hot to cold was due to an ongoing search for equilibrium that the young man hadn't quite located of yet. This sort of blind faith in a brat who didn't listen worth a damn was somewhat bittersweet to the old man, but he soldiered through the realization with a stoicism that Lavi should have been able to call his own by now. Needless to say, as Bookman watched the boy tease the ever courteous Lenalee into an uncomfortable disorientation, the lazy bum wasn't any closer to learning his lesson than he was five years ago.

"He's very skilled in close quarter combat," cut through the old scribe's thoughts. "It's strange that he picked a long-range weapon."

The lilt to Komui's words was almost knowing, but the truth clearly evaded him, even if only marginally.

"We all have our roles to play in this war, director," the aged man intoned in response. "He picked the weapon most fitting of his."

Surely, of all people, the scientist would know a thing or two about acting. He had perfected the art, apparently, and Bookman briefly considered if that was for the benefit of his sister and, perhaps, the rest of the Black Order members who relied on him to remain stronger than he was. At the very least, the mystery toeing its way around the perimeter of the scribe's thoughts was now solved. Komui Lee was no airhead, despite all his best efforts to appear as one, and the fact was echoed in Lenalee's upbringing, a brag-worthy product of the director's work, no doubt.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, Bookman's own charge wasn't quite as willing to bring him the sort of pride and joy that goes hand in hand with parenting success. The idiot got carried away, again, and ripped open the front flap on the girl's uniform with a triumphant crow that surely didn't actually illustrated his thoughts at the moment because the old scribe did not raise that ridiculous kid to be this much of a pervert! At least his brat of an apprentice had the good grace to blush, though he could have done without trying to hand the ripped cloth back to the young woman so clearly glaring murder at him. Bookman didn't even think about stopping her from mauling the redheaded moron, which she happily did, knocking him right out with a roundhouse to the side of his head.

She didn't forget to throw the boy's headband at his crumpled form before storming away either, followed closely behind by a stuttering Komui, who looked a bit torn between strangling something, preferably Lavi, and throwing all of his clothes over the shoulders of his sister so that no one caught even a glimpse of what the young scribe managed to expose. For his own part, Bookman found himself heavily sighing while toying with the idea of bringing his apprentice back to the land of the living. In the end, though, all he did was drag the idiot off by the ankle, not minding the bouncing of the brat's head over each crack and bump in the floor.

The next conversation with the supervisor that came about in due course of business was going to be interesting, indeed.

Komui clearly didn't like the suggested assignment configuration because he was fighting all logic, and that's a bit strange for a scientist, but it wasn't as though Bookman could truly blame him. After Lavi's grand performance of not a week prior, during which time, Lenalee rightly hadn't spoken a word to the suddenly morose idiot, the director had needlessly gotten into the business of isolating the redhead from his sister, though she'd been doing a fine job of ignoring the brat all on her own, so sending her away with the young man, alone, wasn't, obviously, what the scientist wanted, but the scribe had to insist. After all, there was no one better available to accompany her into the thick of London's Limehouse District than Lavi. He may have been a lot of things, but he wasn't naïve, while she, most certainly, was. Circumstances allowing, Bookman would have suggested that she not go at all, but the sharp drop in the numbers of akuma forming around the criminal end of town did need investigating, and there was no one off assignment at the moment but Lenalee and his idiot apprentice.

Which brought him back to the point of Komui refusing to see reason.

"I am not sending my precious Lenalee away with that — that beast!" he sputtered indignantly, glaring over the rim of his glasses at the completely unaffected Lavi. Bookman thought there was an edge of shark-sharp fang digging into the man's bottom lip, but he paid it no mind.

"I assure you, director, that Lavi will be on his best behavior and a perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the assignment."

The moron at his side snorted, leaving the old scribe no choice by to give him a good whack to the back of the head. Bookman cleared his throat as though no interruption took place.

"As I was saying, I assure you, director, that Lavi will be on his best behavior and a perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the assignment."

It didn't take long after that promise to sway Komui into some semblance of understanding. It helped, of course, that most Black Order members were only versed in dealing with akuma, which recommended the redhead for an assignment where unsavory humans might be involved. The location where he and Lenalee would be going was truly unfortunate, but finders had, time and again, pinpointed it as all but seemingly abandoned by akuma, though it was normally prone to infestation. More than anything, what the scientist wanted to derive from the mission was information. The displayed behavior was truly strange, especially because no reports have come in of late that outlined any sort of unexplained phenomena in the area. This suggested, of course, that Innocence wasn't actually involved, but, then, what was there to explain the shift in strategy? Of course, any shift in strategy from the opposing side, even a mostly explained one, wasn't good news.

It was unclear whether Komui so arranged it, or Lenalee so requested, but the brunette was briefed on these details in a separate meeting, so she escaped Lavi's company for another twenty-four hours. Unfortunately for her, and it was unfortunate, for she still hadn't forgiven the redhead, there was no escaping their shared train compartment, nor the entirety of the assignment. Lee wasn't in the business of ducking out of missions, and she wasn't about to get into it, annoying idiot of a new recruit by her side or not. Besides, as much as she wanted to remain incensed with the boy, her softer sensibilities were getting in the way. It was definitely easier to think him utterly ridiculous when he was nowhere in sight; the conviction became much harder to uphold when he was slumping into his seat like a kicked puppy right in front of her. It was simply not in the brunette's nature to ignore the pitiful glances he shot in her direction, smartly following her example and remaining otherwise wordless for the entire start of the train ride.

So passed an hour in something akin to companionable silence, while Lenalee read over the assignment brief a few times, marveling at the fact that the redhead had enough self-restraint to continue pretending he was mute, and Lavi gave her pleading, little looks he thought she didn't notice.

By hour two, the mission details were no longer holding her attention, and the Bookman had taken to outwardly staring at the back of the folder she held up, over her face, in the hopes of blocking him out and remaining mad. The effort was really futile.

She dropped the reading material into her lap and finally met his gaze.

"D'you wanna get cotton candy in the dining car with me?"

It had been about a week since his little incident with Lenalee, and although the redhead was used to being a misunderstood idiot, it never bothered him so much until now. The past seven days had been a test of endurance and a trial of patience, definitely a new experience. Prepared for the cold shoulder, for the girl to angrily ignore him, Lavi thought nothing of the week to come. The young male had pissed off many a cute girl before coming to the Black Order, so he was well enough acquainted with the silent treatment. Being raised and trained as a Bookman, the youth had no need for friends or companions, and one of the greatest benefits of having no attachments was not caring one bit when people stopped talking. In the past, Lavi just grinned at his opponents' stupidity, knowing that their efforts were wasted and that, without even trying, he had won. Without so much as a wave over his shoulder, the boy would move on to the next story, starting the next chapter, and not even offer a glance back. Granted, it was a bit early in this current chapter's dialog, but the junior Bookman knew the results would end up the same.

Or so the idiot thought.

The first time walking past the snooty and bitter Lenalee, Lavi flashed his playful and dashing smile, but as the girl huffed and turned her nose up at the Bookman, the usual upset female response, a strange sensation trickled down his spine. The odd feeling made the redhead shiver, made him stop in his tracks and turn to look over his shoulder as Lee continued on her merry way, her dangling pigtails swaying in time with the angry swish of her hips. The boy was confused and stood there for a moment, just watching her walk away, having more on his mind than just admiring the view. Unnerved, the Bookman carried on to his destination, unable to shake that odd, uncomfortable feeling for several hours, but eventually forgetting about the experience.

The next time Lavi saw Lenalee, something made him actually walk up to her, extending a hand, giving a smile, and offering an inviting conversation, but she moved right past him, not even sparing her fellow exorcist a sideways glance. Not sure what happened, again, the historian was left standing confused in the hallway, cocking his head to the side as he ruffled his spiky, red strands.

Just what in the hell was that for?

Again, the experience left a bad taste in the Bookman's mouth, something he was not used to, and something he was learning that he didn't like.

On the third encounter, Lavi decided to corner the poor girl, blocking the exorcist's path and forcing her to interact with him. The idiot's goal was accomplished; however, not in the way he was expecting, nor anticipating. Instead of talking to him, the headstrong young woman kicked the moron square in the shin, hard enough to make it instantly bruise and throb, causing the redheaded bastard to jump out of the way in pain, allowing his prey to escape.

Now the Bookman was pissed, which gave him more leverage to help himself push past the event and move on, though he still found Lee and the whole ordeal at the forefront of his mind. And just when the young scribe thought he was beginning to make progress, assured that he was starting to win the battle, the redhead was informed he would be going on a mission with the object of his slowly developing obsession.

A mission alone with her.

Just the two of them.

The young male grinned and snorted at the idea, knowing victory would soon be his, which, of course, rewarded him with a hard smack on the back of the head.

Stupid old panda.

Now, though, sitting in the small, cozy compartment of the train, any confidence Lavi had before the start of the mission was quickly smothered and extinguished by the fiery aura that radiated from the female exorcist. Any self respecting male knew better than to make an approach, and although the redhead might have proved himself to be dumb on occasion, he did have a strong sense of self-preservation, so the junior Bookman sat curled up in the far corner, avoiding the vicious girl as best he could. Boredom quickly won, however, and the timid boy slowly began to acquire his usual smug sense of self-esteem, which allowed him to steal glances at the foul temptress. Of course, Lenalee ignored the pompous child, retaliating by moving her reading material a little higher, using the back cover to block the boy from her view, if only slightly.

As the next hour passed, Lavi's quick little glances turned to a full blown stare, while the exorcist's mission brief came to be held fully in front of her. The girl did her best to ignore the Bookman, but one can only put up with the awkward sense of being watched for so long. The brunette's resolve broke first, and she lowered her folder to find the, once again, overly cocky redhead positioned just on the other side of the contained words, almost nose-to-nose with her. It took all of Lenalee's self-control not to jump at the proximity of her forced companion.

"D'you wanna get cotton candy in the dining car with me?"

Lavi gave the young woman a cat-like smile, his figurative tail swishing happily, the boy, after all his efforts, finally becoming victorious, his due diligence paying off.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Then, before she could change her mind, the redhead was on his feet, his hand taking a firm hold of the female's wrist and pulling her towards the direction of the dining car. There was a sense of haste in his steps, but it was unclear to the supposedly unfeeling Bookman if his rapidly beating heart reflected a desire to escape the heavy atmosphere of the cramped compartment, or if he was afraid and running from something else. Whatever it was, the redhead pushed it out of mind, keeping the troubling idea out of sight.

To be continued.