Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ Destiny of Angels ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

Title: Destiny of Angels

Author: Caelestis

Rating: M

Fandom: Petshop of Horrors

Warnings: The usual.

Disclaimer: Why do you think I write for free? O.o;; I DON'T OWN THEM!!! 

 

Author Note: Oh my God. I haven't updated this in two years. Well, I have gestating plot lines and some time to write before the next quarter starts, so I guess I can indulge you poor, poor readers who have waited for so long to read the continuation. Gomen-ne, but I hope you'll like it.

 

Snake-Mistress: Thank you for reminding me!

 

Jen: Thank you for commenting, I value each response that my readers give.

 

Jaques-lefrou: Sorry to have kept you waiting.

 

Ami-chan: You think so? Thanks!

 

Celeste1: Thank you too!

 

Kiharu-sama: It's a little difficult to get into the mind sets of the characters to understand what they would do or react to different situations. I'll admit that I'm a little out of practice, but I hope that I can continue to do these characters justice.

 

A Vri: Sorry it took me a year!

 

Kizna2: Thanks!

 

To everyone else: Again I'm soooooo sorry! I didn't even realize where the time went… I'll try to be more consistent minna, I promise!

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

The slow journey back to consciousness wasn't as difficult as Leon had thought it would be, The safety of the petshop was something he had begun to take for granted, a protective blanket that filled his senses with its incense. His eyes remained closed as he allowed his mind to drift, free of his present problems. The blond detective, while feeling slightly grimy, was also quite content. He clutched the blanket covering him and snuggled closer into the warmth, falling asleep once again.

 

Peace, prolonged that is, was not meant for our dear detective as Count D decided at that moment to enter with a tray filled with breakfast foods. Q-chan flitted over to the silk clad shoulder of the store owner, squeaking at the slumbering human. D set the tray down on the elaborately carved night-stand next to one side of the bed that Leon was currently occupying before attempting to rouse the slumbering lion.

 

“Detective,” D reached out and touched the cloth covered lump in the middle of the mass of feathery comfort. “It is time for you to rise.”

 

Leon groaned and turned over. A small trickle of clear drool extended from the corner of the blond's mouth that was hanging open to the air. The unruffled object had yet to acknowledge the presence of the Count and continued to slumber peacefully.

 

“Please cease this foolishness!” Exclaimed the raven haired beauty, childishly stomping his foot after several more attempts that resulted in failure.

 

“Just five more minutes, mommy.” Leon mumbled, mostly asleep. Sighing, D sat down on the downy bed, the mattress sinking to accommodate his weight as he leaned over the tired man. His short, silky hair fell forward in a gentle cascade.

 

“My dear detective, you must get up. Your food is getting cold.”

 

Leon's eyes blinked, slowly opening to the low lighting of the exotic shop. His surroundings sharpened as he cast off the remaining bonds of sleep. The first thing that came into focus was a pair of miss-matched eyes blinking owlishly at him. If he were a little more coherent, he could safely say he would have been startled. For now, he just yawned and remained where he was without making a fuss.

 

“G'morning.” He mumbled, raking a hand through his matted hair, rubbing at his stubble covered face with the other. Another yawn and a cat like stretch made the lacquered lips quirk upward in an amused smile. Leon took a moment to observe the man that was seated so comfortably next to him. He could feel the warmth that the Count was radiating through the covers; that simple fact should have made him feel slightly nervous, yet at this instant he didn't really care. Or, for that matter, want D to move. The slim shoulders filled out his cheongsam nicely, folds of silk outlining his form without giving much away. Patterns of dragons were etched over it, defined in reflective gold thread. Other mythical creatures were depicted along the hems, creating yet another outfit that suited the Count perfectly. It was simply D's style.

 

Leon had to admit to himself, at least in that moment, the Count was definitely beautiful. Lifting himself into a sitting position, Leon smelled the delicious aroma of coffee wafting up from a mug on the tray. A closer examination revealed a small platter of pancakes, still steaming, and a small bowl of rice broth. A western knife and fork were present instead of chopsticks, and a small pitcher of syrup was nestled into the last open space on the tray. Leon turned grateful eyes on the Count for providing him something that he could use, instead of making a fool of himself trying to wield the traditional implements of the Chinaman.

 

Running his hand through his matted locks once more, Leon ate, reality intruding on his pleasant position. D sat back and watched him enjoy his meal, happy to be in the detective's company without him hurling maledictions or accusations in his general direction. Q-chan tutted in disgust before flying off in a huff. Casting a withering glare in the babbit's direction, D allowed his attention to focus back on the detective.

 

Mentally reviewing the case in his head, Leon asked D in a distracted manner about a shower. D was only too happy to show him where it was.

 

Finally clean, and dressed in one of D's weird outfits, Leon felt refreshed and ready to tackle the quandary before him. The facts just didn't add up. Whitman, the almost governor, had gone to the bathroom, done his business, and then disappeared without making a sound. From the crime scene, there wasn't any signs of struggle, save for the indentation in the metal door of that one stall. He doubted that Whitman could have made that dent himself, so that would mean that he left that bathroom with company, and whatever that company was, it was strong enough to dent solid steel. Gotta love those fancy ass restaurants.

 

Leon sighed. And every detective's nightmare; no evidence. No fibers, no hairs, no fingerprints or footprints. Not even a trace that anything had been in there at all. At times like these he wished he was Sherlock Holmes, or at least had him to contribute to the investigation.

 

The strange dress like outfit that Leon was wearing oddly enough was very comfortable. It helped that it only fell to his mid-thigh and came with a pair of matching pants. He could last until he made it home to change, which was going to be his first stop before work. After his shower, Leon had returned to the room where he had slept to find the current outfit he was wearing laid out on the made bed. His old clothes were nowhere to be found, they disappeared the second he had taken them off. Having no other choice, Leon had pulled on the weird clothing, and then sat down on the mattress once again, bringing him to the point he was at now; feeling completely hopeless. With a groan, he let his head fall down to be cradled in his cupped hands.

 

Wait a minute. His eyes narrowed. Something wasn't adding up. Whitman was at dinner when he vanished. Dinner… with his WIFE. Where the heck was she when he didn't show back up from his little bathroom break? And D had said that she picked up the pet the day after he had been proclaimed missing. Why hadn't she made more of a fuss about it?

 

Leon jumped to his feet and grabbed his badge, wallet, and keys off the nightstand before sprinting out the door. Those air ducts in that place were pretty small… but, they were big enough for an animal to fit through… an animal… or a petit woman. But, he shouldn't rule anything out just yet, the way investigations had been turning out lately it wouldn't surprise him if the culprit turned out to be Dracula. Remarkably Leon managed to navigate his way through the shop without getting lost, running through the twisting corridors at full speed. Skidding to a halt near the main room of the shop, Leon almost collided with D, barely catching himself in time.

 

“D! There you are! Look, I need you to do me a favor. Can you look up any pets that you might have sold anyone surrounding Whitman in the past few months? I don't think that this was a spur of the moment type of thing, this was definitely pre-meditated.”

 

D opened his mouth to speak, but the blond detective cut him off with another string of fast paced words. “Can't waste any time, I gotta lead I'm gonna follow, have the list ready for me when I get back.” Leon babbled, energized at finding SOME sort of clue or lead in the dead end case. He couldn't believe that he hadn't seen this earlier.

 

“So you have a suspicion?” D queried.

 

“Yeah. I'm going back to the crime scene, then over to the Whitman's house. I think that his wife is hiding something. Page me if anything comes up.” Impulsively, Leon grabbed the delicate man in an enthusiastic hug, dropping a chaste kiss on his burgundy colored lips before sprinting out the door with a manic laugh. D blinked. Several moments later a blond head poked back into the shop, a sheepish expression on his face.

 

D knelt down and retrieved the keys that the Detective had dropped, handing them over mutely to the blond. With another flash of motion, Leon was gone. The rumble of a car starting up was heard from outside the shop, before the squeal of the rubber tires signaled the detective's departure. Q-chan chirped his displeasure of the blond, growling at him even through his absence. D shot him an annoyed glance.

 

“I am aware that he is human. No, grandfather, I know exactly what I am getting into.”

 

Regally, D retreated back into the registry of the pet shop to do as Leon had requested. It was the least he could do for his dear detective. He didn't realize one hand had risen to caress the spot that Leon had kissed.

 

To Be Continued…