Chapter 22:

Athrun had had small talks with experienced senior officers before. During coffee breaks or during boring surveillance or stake-outs that lasted for days. Some senior officers had described how time had stopped when they had been involved in highly dangerous situations. For Athrun, it was a little difficult to imagine. He had never really felt the world freeze over, not until he found himself staring in disbelief at Lacus who was striding purposefully and ignorantly into the grasp of danger.

By sheer force of will, Athrun got his feet working. "Lacus!" He snapped, taking off in a run. He caught her a few feet away from his door and threw an arm around her bodily to drag her away.

"W-What are you doing?" she asked bewildered, "What's wrong?"

"Ssh, something's not right. Stay in the car." He manhandled her away from his house. "Intruders."

"What? Don't be silly. There's no-"

Light flooded the path as the front door flew open. "Get down!" Athrun threw himself over Lacus, crushing her underneath him. Damn! They were in a precarious situation now, in the worst place they could ever be – lying in the middle of the path, exposed to the whole wide world. He waited for the hiss of bullets flying over his head or the searing impact of metal tearing through his flesh.

"What are you two lovebirds doing on the ground?"

Athrun blinked. What? He raised his head tentatively at first, then more confidently, and stared at the silhouette at his door. He knew that voice, but before he could place a name to that silhouette, another figure had stepped over, blocking out the rest of the light.

"Sheesh, guys. Get a room."

Now that voice, Athrun sure as hell recognized it. He scrambled to his feet, charged through the door and tackled Dearka Elsman to the ground. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?"

He threw a none-too-gentle punch at Dearka's face, his blonde-haired subordinate struggling to fend off the assault as best as he could. "Hey!" he snapped as Athrun grazed his jaw, "I wasn't the one who picked the lock. It was Luna!" He tucked both arms between their grappling bodies and shoved Athrun off him with tremendous effort. Athrun fell back on his heels, panting hard, glaring daggers at his fallen comrade. If looks could kill, Dearka would have dissipated into ashes. "Man, I could kill you," he snapped, "You asshole. What the hell are you doing in my house? I could have shot you, Dearka. And maybe I should have. You blithering idiot!"

That was when he heard the chuckles and laughter around him. Athrun glanced up from where he was crouching and narrowed his eyes at the sight of his team and a whole lot of other familiar faces standing around with laughter in their eyes. He picked out Cagalli Yamato in the crowd, even Miriallia Haw.

"Do I want to know what is going on?" Athrun breathed out.

"That depends on what you'll like to know." Miriallia laughed. She was leaning against the open door, watching him with amusement. Athrun quirked an eyebrow at her. "Well, I am hoping someone would enlighten me as to why I've come home to discover that my house has been broken into by my friends." "Well," Shinn laughed, "by AC Ramius' orders-" He gave a mock salute. "We have been tasked to 'cheer you up'."

Athrun narrowed his eyes. "By breaking and entering?"

"We pulled it together at the last minute," Lunamaria explained sheepishly, "it was meant to be a surprise. But uh-"

"-it didn't exactly work out as we planned," Meyrin concluded, wincing.

"It's a gesture of goodwill gone a little wrong, that's all," Lacus offered him a hand, smiling, and pulled him to his feet. "Yeah," Dearka winced exaggeratedly, "you've got to lighten up, Boss." He caught the hand that Athrun offered him in turn. "God, you pack a punch, Chief."

"Serves you right," Athrun commented dryly.

"Okay," Nicol threw up both hands to placate the crowd, "enough talk, and violence. We see that enough at work. Let's party!"

There was a chorus of agreements, even as Athrun looked on at them skeptically. The party moved into his living room, whooping, chattering and punching shoulders. They were acting as if they were completely at home, as if they owned the place! It was outrageous. Athrun felt as if he had fallen down a rabbit-hole. He was dizzy from the onslaught of events, of one surprise after another. Emotionally drained and physically worn-out, he was so not ready for this. All he wanted to do was to lie down in bed and sleep it off.

"Come on."

A tug at his sleeve made him glance around and the reassuring smile Cagalli flashed him drove a little warmth into his tired body.

"Come on, Athrun!" Dearka echoed, clapping his hands loudly to grasp his attention. "Come on, come on!" The party had stopped, jammed in the hallway leading to the living room. Heads were turned towards him and eyes were waiting expectantly.

Athrun smiled, the first genuine smile in days. Yeah, it was really good to be home.

Rau Le Creuset was glaring hard at his monitor, his long deft fingers drummed his frustration on the edge of the desk. He was glowering at the photograph of a man with navy-blue hair and bright intelligent emerald eyes. The profile laid out alongside the photograph labeled him as: Detective Athrun Zala. Chief of Special Unit.

Rau knew all about Athrun Zala. The detective had been on his case for months now. More importantly, he knew Athrun Zala was the adopted son of Siegel Clyne which meant that the case was personal to him. And Rau knew that the more personal a case was, the more driven he was to solve it.

Damn, the son-of-a-bitch had even tracked down the woman who had been one of their suppliers years ago. How the hell did the bastard do that? What had he uncovered? His subordinates should have wiped out all history of the transaction. Rau had immediately sent in a waste management team to eliminate her before things got worst. Perhaps all suppliers should be discarded as soon as transactions are done. Tie up all the loose ends. He made a mental note to mention that to his subordinates. Let them figure out how to get it done.

And then there was that issue of the fake serum.

One thing Rau Le Creuset hated most was being lied to. No one dared to lie to him. Except Athrun Zala who had tricked them with a fake serum and taken them all for a wild ride. Treated them like idiots and for that, Rau was going to kill him. But that could wait. Rau was a patient man. What he needed most now was the real serum. Where could Athrun Zala have hidden it? The kid was young, but definitely not rash and stupid. Even if he dispatched Kira's team to go undercover, Rau was sure they wouldn't find any clues, or else it would take too long.

Oh, and that other minor issue about Orga's team. They had literally disappeared from the surface of the earth. Rau smiled to himself. That meant that his assassins were good, and in turn, the trainers he had employed to teach them were good. Nevertheless, Orga's team had become a loose end now and they had to be taken out. No matter - he had waste management teams at his disposal.

A tentative knock on the door. "Come in," he called, swiveling his chair around to meet the scientist who creaked open his door and poked his head around it. "Sir, Kira's team is back in base. The target's been taken out."

"Excellent," Rau grinned. What had he said about his assassin teams being good? They weren't just good. They were the very best.

"Anything else for them, Sir?"

"No," Rau waved a hand in dismissal, "let them go home and have a good rest."

He watched the scientist leave his office and he sank back into his leather chair, interlocking his fingers thoughtfully. The photograph of Athrun Zala stared back impassively at him from his computer monitor. "I wonder what makes you tick, Athrun," he muttered, smiling.

"Leave it, guys. I'll handle it."

Dearka tsked at him and wagged a finger in his face. "Don't act Mr. Macho in front of us, Chief. I thought we've already established the fact that you're not alone in this."

"That's absolutely right, even though I can't believe I'm agreeing with Elsman," Miriallia chimed in, shaking her head, "but we're here to help, Athrun. You've got to trust us." She swept drained beer cans off the table into the black garbage bag she was holding.

Cagalli paused in her task of gathering empty pizza boxes and quirked a suspicious eyebrow. "Since when does Mr. Macho listen to our advice?"

"That," Lacus smiled, "I definitely agree to." She stooped to pick up the strewn cushions scattered all over the living room floor and tossed them onto the sleek grey sofa, where Meyrin and Lunamaria were straightening them out. "Is it a boss-thing? The whole issue of trust?" Meyrin wondered out loud, glancing at her sister curiously. Luna shrugged, "Maybe."

"Nah," Nicol breezed past with a tray of empty wine glasses. "It's an Athrun-thing," he yelled from the kitchen. He emerged again with the empty tray and grinned at Athrun who was frowning and smiling at the same time. They had been doing that all evening, chattering incessantly and insulting him as though he wasn't around to hear them. The conversation flowed like the tide, endless and impossible for him to squeeze in more than a few words each time.

"Are you guys going to keep this up?" He demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at them. "You're just paying me back for all the times I've ordered you around, aren't you?"

"Finally," Shinn sighed dramatically, "he's caught on." Everyone laughed.

Athrun shook his head but he couldn't hide the smile. Man, they were like one big family. The family that would lounge around the living room at eleven p.m., sipping beer, devouring pizza and watching television. The family that would bicker and insult each other. Like a normal, typical, average family. A family he had never had.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He was snapped out of his reverie by Lacus' gentle touch on his arm and her concerned blue-gray eyes focused on his face.

He shook his head, but didn't manage to get a word out as Dearka interrupted him, "Boss always goes off by himself in his head, Lacus. Don't worry about it. What's the worst that could happen?"

"We're used to the sound of the gears in his head moving."

"Always in constant motion. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second."

"You should be concerned if you don't hear them one day."

"Means he's really going off the deep end."

"I bet you, he's thinking about the case."

"How much?"

"Ten bucks."

"Fifty."

"Twenty, and that's the highest I'll go."

"Oh god, guys, would you cut it out?" Athrun sighed, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I get it. I'm a pain in the ass, always in your faces. I get it. Ease up on the mental torture, guys. I can't take any more of this."

His house visitors fell into a fit of laughter and he found himself joining in. Laughter was still ringing in the air by the time the living room was spotless. Athrun saw his guests out - a peck to the cheek for the ladies, a punch in the shoulder and a bear hug for the men. He watched them troop down his pathway and separated towards different cars, hands held high in waves and farewells.

The sudden silence that fell upon the room felt bittersweet. Athrun was still reeling from the excitement, but he was also aware of the loneliness that had been made more apparent with the departure of his family.

"Gears in your head moving again?"

He turned and smiled at Lacus who was giving the table a last wipe. "Well," he closed the door behind him and headed for the kitchen, "it's what Cagalli said, right? If you don't hear these gears moving, it'll mean I've gone over the deep end. I thought that's what you didn't want me to do." Lacus trailed along after him into the kitchen.

"When's the chauffeur coming?" Athrun turned on the tap, washed out the wine glasses and handed them to Lacus one at a time.

"He'll be here in ten minutes." Lacus polished the wine glasses off with a dry cloth.

They made small talk as Athrun dragged a chair from the dining and climbed onto it to return the wine glasses to the cupboards above.

"I'm sorry."

Lacus paused in her task and gazed up at Athrun in surprise. He was looking down at her from the chair, earnest emerald eyes filled with guilt and shame.

"For?"

"For what happened at the party. It was meant to be a homecoming. Siegel spent so much time planning for it, but it turned out to be a circus instead."

"Well, I like circuses." Lacus smiled, returning to her polishing.

"I'm serious."

"So am I." She handed him two glasses and watched as he placed them back onto the shelf. "You weren't the one who barged in with the guns, Athrun. You were the one covering all bases, planning and scheming to keep us safe from harm. If you hadn't, the number of casualties could have increased." She paused, then gave him a sideways look, changing the subject, "besides, I had a wonderful time."

"Wonderful time?" Athrun stared at her in disbelief.

"I enjoyed myself," Lacus shrugged, "at least, until things started turning ugly." Then her beautiful lips curled into a smile and she gazed up at him, "I got together with the girls, you know. Remember Alicia, Seraphine, Betty? We were in the same class back in high school? Gosh, I hadn't seen them in such a long time." She shook her head, reminiscing her school days. "We had a dare," she laughed, her blue-gray eyes beaming, "just like old times."

"What about?"

She lifted the last two wine glasses up to Athrun. "I had to ask a guy out to dance, Athrun! It was awful."

"Why? You're a charming lady. I was honoured to be your date that night, even though I wasn't a good companion." Athrun replaced the wine glasses on the shelf, clambered off the chair and began to drag it back to the dining area.

"He didn't look honoured one bit," Lacus laughed. "He looked aggravated that I had picked him. But there was something about him, Athrun. I can't quite explain it." She paused, frowning thoughtfully, her fingers fiddling absently with a lock of pink hair. "He had… really lonely eyes. I just thought… maybe he could do with some company…"

"Ever the perfect hostess," Athrun teased, grinning back at Lacus, who followed him out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the cloth, "So, who was the lucky guy?"

"Oh, I don't know him well. He's a representative from DEX Enterprises. He told me his name was Kira Hibiki."

The neighbourhood was empty and silent when he trudged up the narrow one-way street, a lonesome figure in the night, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and the collar of his leather jacket turned up against the wind. He could sense the weather changing – the dry, brittle air and the stinging slap of the wind. It was going to get much colder.

He turned at the fifth apartment and ascended the little stone steps. The house was eerily quiet when he slipped open the door. He had never bothered with a lock. There was nothing worth stealing in his house. He owned nothing, had nothing.

Shutting the door behind him, he toed off his sneakers, took a step in the direction of the bedroom and found himself stepping on something. He flicked the light switch and crouched down to take a better look. It was a paper napkin, like those often used in diners and cafes. It had been slipped under his door and he could see words scribbled on its underside in black ink. Cautiously, he flipped it over with a nail and scanned the message.

U didn't come. We were waiting for u bcos u said u would try.

He tore the napkin in two and crumpled it in his hand, tossing it aside. A sudden, unexplainable anger surged through him as he stormed through his bedroom and into the bath, ripping his clothes off and scattering them all over the floor. He turned the shower on full blast and stood under the bitterly cold stream.

He didn't miss the sarcastic, accusatory tone in Flay's words. The hurt in her message. He had forgotten all about the tasting session she proposed. It hadn't crossed his mind for a single second since he had stepped out of her diner that morning, two days ago. I'll try to be there. No promises, Flay. But I'll try. To a certain extent, he had made her a promise, only to go right ahead and break it. The only 'friend' he had ever had.

Damn Flay and her stupid tasting session. Damn Sai and his stupid menu. Damn Rau. Damn those scientists. Damn the dead woman. Damn it all.

And damn himself.

He remembered the year he had 'graduated' from Rau's training facility and given a place to stay Out There, just like all the other 'graduates'. His first home out of the training facility, fully furnished, fully operational. Only that he owned nothing in it. He had no bank account, no investments, no car, no housing contracts, no bank loans. He had had no say in the apartment, no say in how it would be renovated, or what sort of furniture to put in it. Nothing at all. His meager monthly allowance came to him in a folded envelope left on his dresser by the housekeeper who came on alternate days. He didn't even have a say in hiring her. And secretly, he suspected that the housekeeper answered to his trainers at the facility. She wasn't a housekeeper; she was more of a spy. Rau had people who could pull strings and arrange things like that.

The stint of independence had thrown him off guard. It wasn't fear – they had trained him to be 'fearless' back in the facility, but he had been disoriented by the sudden change in surroundings. The training facility had been a prison, a living hell. Recruits like him had been taught to fight for their food because there was never enough to go around. If you wanted to eat, you had to fight, and you had to win.

The day after his 'graduation', he had found himself like a newborn babe or a kid at his first day of school, unsure of where to buy his lunch. That day, he heard his doorbell ring and found a red-haired woman standing in his doorway. "Your take-out, Mister," She had grinned, holding out a plastic bag. At his blank expression, she did a double-take and squinted at the faded numbers on his doorplate. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she had apologized sheepishly, "I got the wrong house. Again." She backed down the stone steps and glanced up at him, smiling. "You're new here? I haven't seen you around."

When he nodded, she stuck a hand out at him. "Welcome to our little neighbourhood then." She shook his hand enthusiastically. "There's not much around here, but it's still home. Have you had lunch? My boyfriend and I, we own a diner just around the corner. Why don't you come down for a meal? I can take you there, right after I send this take-out, that is. By the way, I'm Flay. You are?"

And that first encounter had drawn him to her. Gave him a friend that he had never had.

"Screw you, Kira," He muttered, turning his face towards the punishing flow of water. "You fuck up everyone you're close to, don't you?" The harsh coldness of the water dulled his senses. His teeth chattered and his body began to spasm and shiver, fighting against the onset of hypothermia. Maybe he could freeze to death, just standing there under the cold shower. But who was he kidding? He couldn't die. They wouldn't let him die. He was sure there were pinhole cameras in his apartment. There were people watching him. Always. He didn't have privacy, not even in his own home - if that was what he could call it, since he didn't own house or anything in it. Besides, all those weird chemicals injected into him would ensure he lived. Even his own body betrayed him.

They wouldn't let him die, but they sure as hell couldn't stop him from punishing himself.

Kira slid to the floor and curled up on the white tiles, letting the cold water beat down on his naked body. All alone. Completely vulnerable. And it felt so good.

Author's note: I think there's something sadistic about me. Anyways, hope this chapter was a little more enjoyable. Just wanted to show the contrast between Athrun and Kira. By the way, just noticed that I didn't draw the divider lines between each section. So sorry about that. Hope it wasn't confusing. Yup, so review, review, review, pretty please!