Author's Note: A wild update for 'You've Got Mail' has appeared, finally!

Sorry guys, this has taken far, far too long to get out. I know it sounds like the biggest cliché in the world, but my real life has just been really busy right now. I spent a week in London & another week at work, plus my word processor fucked up and I kind of hit a mental wall with how I wanted this story to progress, so it's really just not been a good time for writing this lately!

I felt really bad for not updating, but I'd rather not update at all than stick up a typo-ridden, shitty chapter which is not up to my own standards and doesn't really go anywhere, especially so close to the end. Don't worry though, this will never be abandoned without being finished, it just might take some time to finish it up, though I'm really trying to work on getting this done by the end of the month if not way before.

If you feel like giving me a prod every now and then to check I'm still alive then by all means send me an email or a review or bug me on my Tumblr – but just remember that I have a pretty busy life with college and friends and work too, so sometimes I want to update this, but physically don't have the time to do so. But really, it means a lot to know people out there are waiting to see where this goes. I love you all for that.

Enough of my pitiful, sentimental authorial babbles for one update, for now, enjoy. If you have time to do so, please don't forget to leave a review for this chapter. Just to let me know you're still alive too~

The world is filled with unlikely bonds, ones which seem, to the casual observer, to make absolutely no sense at all. Even in the very basics - hot and cold, good and evil, man and machine - things which ought to contrast and clash often come together to form beautiful alliances.

Izaya Orihara saw it all the time in his observations of the human race. Each and every time he went out to watch his city, his people, his darling little playthings, he saw it. He saw men and women madly in love despite the fact he could tell at a glance how vastly different they were. He saw men rely on machines when they could have quite easily done the same job themselves, with no machine involved. He saw perfectly decent people give in to wicked things if just the right amount of pressure was applied. It was just a fact of nature. Unlikely bonds were born all the time, even between mortal enemies, should they only bother to find themselves a common ground.

He wasn't sure what sort of middle ground he and the oaf had settled on, but he couldn't deny they were obviously finding it, that there was some kind of odd little bond blooming between the two of them, weaving about in the city nights of a screaming urban jungle. He was pretty sure he'd not seen it coming, and Shizuo certainly hadn't. Then again, who could have predicted such a thing? No, no, Izaya was pretty sure no one could have, and perhaps that why it was so beautiful; because no one had seen it coming, because it was raw and natural and had just happened without rhyme or reason. Was that not motiving enough to believe in it, to accept that it was meant to be? Izaya had never been one for fate or destiny or any of that sort of fake bullshit strung together to con people, but when the world seemed to throw him and Shizuo together like this—

Watching Shizuo wonder across the observation deck, lit with light and for once, apparently calm, perhaps he could make an exception… just this once.

Shizuo didn't know what time it was, only that it was late, and he didn't really care enough to check. It didn't matter; he didn't need to be anywhere else.

The observation deck was empty, though the blonde guessed that was due to the late hour. He was pleased about that though, he always felt more at home in his own skin when there was no one around, no one there to judge or to tease or to whisper about who he was and the things he'd done. Something in his gut told him that they were long past the opening hours, but then he also figured that Izaya could find his way around that sort of thing.

It was calming up here, even more so when no one was around. The height still had his blood pumping uneasily, though it wasn't so much the height that scared him but the idea that one wrong move could have him tumbling down and down and down. Shizuo could deal with heights, it was the idea of falling that he hated. It made his head spin and his skin tingle, especially when he stepped closer to the edge, next to the raven headed figure left atop the building with him. Izaya himself was practically sprawled out across the rail, looking as if he could very well have taken flight and vanished into the night. Shizuo had never really bothered to look at him in all that much detail before, what was the point when all he wanted was to smash him across the street as quickly as was possible? But he looked now, as the two stood in the quiet dark.

The whole picture of Izaya was eerie. Dark hair lit with the glow of distant city lights and a large moon, tufts of feathery hair twisting in the soft breeze. Large eyes, bright, filled with mischief and sass and something else that Shizuo couldn't place or understand. He doubted he ever would. Yeah, it was eerie, it was ghostly, and it was almost abnormally beautiful. Once upon a time he would have gladly thrown himself off of the sixtieth floor of Sunshine 60 where they now both stood for thinking such a thing, but now? Well, now things had changed, they'd struck up some kind of unlikely truce, and were rushing towards something new, something different.

Izaya seemed to have no trouble dealing with it, though that was of no real surprise to Shizuo. If anything, it was almost comforting, the fact that one of them had some idea of what was going on, that one of them was keeping them tethered to something normal while the rest of their little world flew up around them. Shizuo just wondered how long it would take him to sort through the muddle of thoughts that Izaya had clearly fought through and won, though still wasn't sure whether making it out on the other side was a good thing or not.

He'd always thought that love was easy, that you just knew. Izaya would probably laugh at him if he ever voiced that idea; after all, from the emails they'd exchanged, Shizuo had learned that the other man had a more than cynical attitude towards the idea of love. That idea was strangely comforting too. Their romance, if that was what it was, wouldn't be that perfect, fairytale story like everyone dreams of. The fact that Izaya wasn't expecting that, that he knew that wasn't going to be what happened, it made this all seem so much easier. There was no more pressure, no more—

A cool voice interrupted his thoughts, just like it always seemed to do these days. At one stage that would have enraged him, now he found himself begrudgingly indulging whatever foolish notion the informant wished to tell him of. "If I jumped, how would you feel?"

"How would you feel?" Izaya repeated again, after a small pause to suck in a breath, "If I just let the wind carry me over the edge of the railing and down, down, down—?"

"Eh?" Shizuo grunted out, as eloquent as ever, in reply. Izaya didn't move his gaze from staring out at the lights to glance at the blonde, who seemed intent on watching the informant, as if that would let him in on the other's thoughts. What kind of question was that? What could that possibly— What was Izaya expecting from him? He paused for a moment or two. He wasn't sure how long.

"Glad?" the informant offered with a laugh. Shizuo didn't know how to answer. Not anymore. Once, he probably would have delighted in an Izaya-free Ikebukuro. He'd have been disappointed that the flea's demise hadn't been by his hand.

But now, what about now? He was so certain of what he would have felt, what he used to feel, but anything to do with how he felt now had him drawing blanks, had him hesitating.

Glad? No, no. He didn't think that's what he'd feel anymore. He didn't think he'd be pleased to see the back of the louse, didn't think he'd be disappointed that he'd not had a hand in doing him in. He wanted to say that he'd just feel nothing, that he wouldn't be affected by it in any real way. He didn't think that was true either. If he was honest with himself, he'd feel—

"Alone,"

Izaya turned at that, to observe Shizuo from the corner of his eyes, as if he'd not quite heard the blonde correctly, though he knew that he had. He didn't say anything, because the blonde was still not done, clearly, and Izaya was more than intrigued with where this little titter of conversation was going.

"The city would feel—" Shizuo shrugged, rubbing his neck and internally cursing. What was he even saying? It was crazy, it was madness, and yet he was certain that he'd never been more honest with the louse in his life. "Empty, I guess,"

Izaya still didn't say anything then, but when he turned his head back out to the city, his lips were tilted up with a smile. Not a smirk, not one of those smug little expressions that usually graced his face, but a genuine little smile; because Shizuo was dealing with this in just the way he ought to be, just the way Izaya had been prodding him towards. It seemed like he didn't seem quite so hung up on the fact they'd used to fight and curse and scream death threats at each other. That didn't matter anymore, and from the looks of it, Shizuo was starting to realise that. Izaya wasn't sure what that meant, he wasn't sure how long the two of them would keep evolving or just what they'd evolve into, but things were unwrapping now, one little baby step at a time.

"Well of course," Izaya snickered, "Who else would entertain you as much as me?"

Shizuo said nothing, but an unspoken laugh tilted the corners of his mouth a little. The tone of Izaya's words had been joking, but there was a truth in them that Shizuo couldn't fail to miss. How much of his life had been centered on tracking the informant down, in chasing him and cursing him and exchanging scars and blows in all those epic battles? Of course his life wouldn't be the same if Izaya were to die, to just vanish from the city. He'd just never thought that might be a bad thing before.

"Come on, let's go. It's fucking freezing out here," Shizuo grunted. "We don't all have shells to keep out the cold like damn fleas,"

"How rude, Shizu-chan," Izaya hummed in reply, pushing off of the rail. He flashed a grin at Shizuo, as if the cold hadn't started to bother him too, as if Shizuo hadn't just made a rather notable confession, as if nothing had really changed or there wasn't a heavy uncertain future hanging in the air before them. That was strangely comforting to Shizuo too, though he would never admit that either.

Shizuo snorted, "Yeah, yeah,"

The idea of falling had always terrified him, ever since he was little. Falling in love with an enemy was no exception. But perhaps he could make an exception, just this once— after all; monsters aren't scared of anything—

Are they?