Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ some kind of bliss ❯ The Way Is Long To The Sun And The South ( Chapter 10 )

 Small disclaimer: My information on boa constrictors all comes from the Interweb, and is not, therefore, one hundred per cent reliable. So don't come crying to me if one tries to kill you. :-p

 That said, sorry about the wait, and enjoy the chapter!

^*^

 It was dawn that woke D. Sunlight stole in at the window on flower-soft feet, sunlight crept across the room and up the bed to kiss his eyelids, and sunlight caressed his face -- gently, gently -- as he returned to consciousness. Leon must have pulled the blankets up over him while he slept, for he felt warm and comfortable.

 He stretched lazily, without opening his eyes, and let sleep slip from him gradually. He could allow himself a moment to enjoy the warmth on his face, and the luxury of feeling fully rested, of waking without his heart in his throat, or his skin crawling, or his head full of nightmare forests and cruel moons. It seemed only right.

 For the first time in days, his sleep had been uninterrupted, untroubled -- and perhaps that was enough to explain the peculiar sense of well-being with which he had woken. Still, it was strange that calm should return to him now. The light of day, surely, should have cued the onset of panic, or self-disgust, or, at the very least, the now-familiar nagging worry that shadowed him more closely than Q-chan. This time, after all, there might be more to fear than dreams.

 Last night, D had proved himself quite unable to prevent that which he should have avoided at all costs, and, his weakness shown, it seemed quite conceivable that his father might try to work some further mischief. Then, there would be very real danger - not only to himself, but, perhaps, to Leon too.

 At the thought of Leon, D felt quite sure his heart should have sunk. And, indeed, a shadow of concern fell across his thoughts, for if harm were to come to Leon, he knew he would be unable to forgive himself.

 And even that relied upon the assumption that Leon would not change his mind. Was it not possible that he might see things quite differently in the light of day -- might wish that last night had never happened, that he had never so much as laid eyes on D, let alone touched him, or kissed him, or slept by his side?

 So much to worry about. So much that might go wrong. And yet still, underneath it all, D felt a quiet, bright elation which he could not shake off, although he was certain it was quite inappropriate.

 The sunlight grew a touch stronger, a gentle reminder that it would soon be full morning, and that he did not have all day to lie here and think. He should wake Leon, he supposed; it would not do to allow him to be late for work.

 He stretched again, less sleepily this time, reluctantly opened his eyes, and turned over -

 -- and found Leon already awake, propped up on one elbow, looking down at him.

 "Was wondering when you were gonna wake up."

 D started in surprise, then composed his features into what felt like a fairly calm smile. He had quite expected to have to drag Leon out of bed - the detective certainly did not seem like a morning person.

 "Good morning, Detective," he murmured, once his startlement had subsided. "I trust you slept well?"

 Leon's eyebrows furrowed slightly, and D felt his heart skip a beat, expecting an awkward question, or, at the very least, a muttered "Why the hell are you still calling me 'Detective'?" -- but then Leon simply shrugged and said, "Yeah. I guess."

 D blinked, disconcerted.

 He was not sure exactly what he had been expecting -- for Leon to start firing questions at him, perhaps, or to decide that all of this had been a mistake, make his excuses and bolt, or simply to grumble about being woken so early -- but this certainly was not it. He thought that he might almost have been more comfortable had Leon simply found something to rant about. It would have been familiar ground, at least. In one of their usual arguments, D could have been sure of his footing; in this strange new intimacy, he felt sure of nothing at all.

 "D? You okay?"

  D realised he had been staring into space, shook his head slightly to clear it, and did his best to smooth the frown from his face.

 "I beg your pardon, Detective. It is still a little early -- I am afraid I have not quite woken up." He smiled as brightly as he could. "But you had no supper last night. You must be quite hungry. Perhaps you would care for some breakfast?"

 D was not sure what Leon was accustomed to consuming for breakfast -- coffee, probably, or some artery-clogging rubbish purchased from McDonalds on his way to work -- but while he was here, D would do his best to ensure that he ate something more nutritious. He prepared breakfast himself. It proved to be quite a calming exercise, and the aroma of freshly-brewed green tea did much to revive his spirits, so that by the time he returned to the bedroom, he felt almost as relaxed as he had done upon waking.

 Leon had evidently found a bathroom in the meantime -- he had splashed some water on his face and made a half-hearted attempt to comb his hair, at any rate. Now, he was sitting on the side of the bed, frowning down at the floor.

 D placed the tray on the bedside table, took the cup of tea he had brought for himself, and perched beside Leon. Leon turned towards him, and stared at him for a long moment with an expression that was hard to read -- part curiosity, part… something else, something that D could not quite pinpoint.

 Again, D felt a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He was not accustomed to being so closely watched (at least, not openly), and Leon's gaze felt too intense, too intimate, perhaps, for safety. After a moment, he dropped his eyes and took a sip of tea, lest his discomfort should show on his face.

 Leon's eyes stayed on D for a few seconds longer, but he said nothing, and when D risked a glance upwards, he had turned his attention to breakfast. He frowned suspiciously at a couple of the more exotic items on the tray -- fighting back the urge to demand, "What the hell is this stuff?", D supposed -- then settled on the relative safety of a boiled egg, and commenced shovelling.

 Dawn brightened into morning, and it seemed that only moments had passed before D was standing at the front door of the pet shop, bidding Leon good morning. They had spoken little since waking, and Leon had asked no questions. D was still unsure whether to be grateful for the fact or perturbed by it.

 Leon had put on his jacket, and he shoved both hands into its pockets. Then he looked down at the floor and bit his lip, and looked as though he were puzzling over something in his mind. No explanation was forthcoming, however. Then:

 "I'll, uh, I'll see you later." He paused. "If it's okay. If -- uh -- if you want me to, that is."

 D swallowed his unease, smiled, and inclined his head graciously. "I should be glad of your company, Detective."

 He knew he should not have meant it. He also knew, very well, that -- despite all the strangeness of this morning, despite all the troubled thoughts he could not calm -- he did.

 He thought that Leon gave him another, slightly odd, look before he left.

 On the other hand, he might well have imagined it. His judgement did not seem quite reliable at the moment, after all.

 Just then, Q-chan flapped into the room and alighted on D's shoulder, chittering crossly, and he realised that Q-chan had been nowhere to be seen for most of last night. Of late, his little companion had taken to leaving the room whenever Leon arrived, and only returning when he left.

 He smoothed Q-chan's fur with the back of a fingernail, and tutted gently. "I simply do not understand your objection to our good friend the detective," he scolded. "Uou seem to have quite forgotten your manners." He gave a mock-frown. "I am disappointed."

 Q looked unamused, and D was quite certain that, were it possible, he would have 'humphed'. Pets, of course, could be quite as prone to bad moods as humans or kami. Although, D had to admit that he had not been quite truthful in saying that he did not understand Q-chan's dislike of Leon. The detective was loud, and brash, and untidy, and clumsy, and smelled of cigarette smoke, for all that his heart might be good. D had held the same objections himself, once, and not so long ago.

 Still, it was a pity that Q-chan had started to avoid Leon rather than pester him; his constant attempts to pull Leon's hair out could have proved quite useful in distracting him from asking unwelcome questions.

 Q-chan still appeared to be sulking. D gave the little creature an indulgent smile, and turned to make a fresh pot of tea.

^*^

 It was dusty, and way too hot, even for LA at this time of year. It'd have to rain soon. That'd be good. Sweaty with running makeup really wasn't a good look, and Jill seriously doubted whether even the best deodorants had been designed to combat the smell of single-guy-car-interior on a hot day. It was pretty unpleasant inside Leon's old green rustbucket at the best of times, never mind when it was stuffy and reeking of McDonalds' leftovers.

 There was a half-empty packet of fries on the dashboard, with a fly buzzing round it. Eww.

 She glanced out through the window, but the parking lot was pretty empty except for a couple of bored-looking people sitting in cars, staring gormlessly into space, and a lone seagull pecking for food around the trash. Then she checked the clock again -- still a good fifteen minutes before she needed to bother checking in for her flight -- and looked across at Leon.

 He was still staring off into space, looking grumpy as hell. He'd been doing that a lot this morning. And Jill had been grateful for the quiet, at first -- checking you had everything sorted out ready to travel and working out how you were going to cope with a funeral filled with relatives you didn't particularly like was a lot easier when you didn't have bad-tempered colleagues ranting and raving at the next desk, after all - but, right now, she was curious.

 For starters, the fact that Leon had managed to go all morning without a single mention of Count D meant that something had to be up. And if they'd had another fight, Jill seriously doubted that Leon was going to get himself back into the Count's good books without a little of her expert advice. If they hadn't had another fight… well, yeah, she was curious.

 She leaned over, and gave Leon a poke in the arm. "So, you sort things out after?"

 He blinked. "Huh?"

 "With the Count, doofus."

 "Oh. Uh…" Leon paused, and frowned. "Uh."

 "My, you're eloquent this morning. C'mon." She stifled a giggle and leaned forward encouragingly. "It's a simple yes or no answer. Not that difficult. I know the topic's rather, ah, distracting, but…"

 "Cut it out, Jill!"

 Now, that was more like it. Meant they were probably getting somewhere. "So, he's still mad at you, then?"

 "No!" Leon snapped. "Ah… Well… I don't think so..."

 "So what's the problem? If you think right, that is?"

 Leon didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, just scowled down at his feet as though he was waiting for his sneakers to come up with an answer, or at least yell "Fuck off!" for him. Then, he glanced back up at Jill.

 "If I tell you this, no-one else ever finds out. In the world. Ever. Okay?"

 She shrugged. "Sure."

 Leon looked at her threateningly. "Promise?"

 "Okay, okay, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."

 "Okay." Leon cleared his throat, and then looked down at his feet again. "Uh, okay." He swallowed. "Uh, you know what I told you about -- what happened last night?"

 Jill couldn't help a smirk. "What, you accidentally pouncing on him?"

 A warning scowl. "Yeah. That."

 Leon was starting to turn red again. For a moment, Jill thought about teasing him a little more. Hey, even annoying best-friends-cum-surrogate-little-brothers could look cute when they blushed.

 "Well, it, uh -- "

 But that probably wasn't a good idea. After all, she kind of wanted to hear the rest of the story.

 " -- kind of -- "

Because it sounded like it was about to --

 " -- happened again."

 -- get interesting.

 "Except, uh -- " Leon was blushing even more furiously now. " -- except -- without the accident part."

 Jill blinked at him, here eyes going saucer-wide. Wow.

 Maybe she didn't know her best friend quite as well as she'd thought. She'd never quite thought Leon had it in him. Or, if he did, that he'd ever stop complaining and blustering and trying to arrest the guy long enough to realise.

 Then, she grinned.

 "Well, about damn time! So, are you guys together now? When's the wedding gonna be? Can I be a bridesmaid?" She paused. "Hey, D is gonna be wearing the dress, right? 'Cos, no offence, Leon, but I don't think you'd really suit chiffon…"

 Jill broke off. She'd kind of thought Leon'd relax a little now he'd gotten that off his chest, but he was still frowning and looking away, out the window.

 A couple more seagulls had landed round the trash can now -- ugly things -- and scared the first one away. It was standing a few feet away, looking a little pissed-off.

 "Uh, Leon?"

 No response.

 "Okay, okay, I take it back. You'd look great in a wedding dress. Really."

 Leon bit his lip, then looked down again. "Ah, I dunno. He's still being all weird."

 Ah.

 She waited a minute longer, but Leon was still staring intently at his sneakers (hell, maybe if he stared long enough he'd work out that he actually needed some new ones). It looked like he was gonna need some prodding.

 Time to be Agony Aunt Jill again. She tipped her head to one side, and put on her best 'listening' expression. "Weird how?"

 "Just… the same as before, I guess. Acting all freaked out and stuff."

 "No idea why?"

 A shrug. Jill barely suppressed a sigh of exasperation.

 "So he - Oh. Oh, wait. Oh, Jesus, Leon, don't tell me you didn't even ask him?"

 "I did! Well… kind of…" He trailed off, looking a little sheepish.

 Christ. Men. Couldn't shut up most of the time, but try getting them to ask just one teensy little question when it came to the important stuff, and you might as well go bang your head against a brick wall. Though that went for trying to get Leon to do pretty much anything, really.

 "He said he'd tell me in the morning."

 "And…?"

 Leon heaved a sigh. "Ah, I don't know. He was just all… back to normal again when I woke up. Sort of. Like he was before we… well, you know, kissed and stuff." (Just kissed? Jill allowed herself a second to be disappointed before turning her attention back to Leon.) "I guess I just didn't think he'd tell me or something. I don't… ah… shit."

 Jill took a deep breath, pushed down the urge to shake him, and said, "So you didn't ask him what was wrong. Really."

 "Well… no, I guess…"

 "Look," she began patiently, "You've never exactly been shy about saying other stuff, have you? Accusing him of murder, drug-dealing, all of that? All you've gotta do right now is find out what the problem is. Bribe him with chocolate again, or something." Maybe not the most insightful relationship advice she'd ever given, but hey, it'd have worked on her. "Come on, what's the worst that could happen?" 

 For a minute, Leon looked like he was going to come back with something -- "Set his fucking man-eating goat on me, that's what!", probably -- but then he just shrugged again.

 "Ah, you're probably right. Guess I'll try it."

 Weird.

 So, there was more to it than just the Count acting a little strangely. Had to be. Leon never, ever, ever said things like "You're probably right" unless he'd lost a screaming argument first, and even then he'd sulk about it for several hours before he'd admit to being wrong. There just had to be something else. Something Leon wasn't telling -- or not right now, anyway.

 Jill was about to turn back to him and prod a little further when she caught sight of the clock. She hadn't realised ten minutes could go that fast. Damn typical!

 "Argh! Dammit! I'm gonna be late -- I better…"

 Leon blinked a couple of times before his face cleared. "Oh -- uh -- sure. I'll -- go get your bag."

 He scrambled out of the car, looking mostly like he was glad of the escape. Jill cracked the door open. That seabird was still standing around the edge of the trash -- whatever discarded food it had been picking at long gone now -- and looking indignant. With a little sniff of distaste, she grabbed the half-empty packet of fries off the dashboard and tossed the contents to the gull and the remainder in the bin.

 "Hey!"

 "What? You were gonna eat those? Jesus, Leon, they must have been there all day!"

 "…No..."

 Jill rolled her eyes, grabbed her bag off Leon, gave him a quick hug and a reassurance that she'd look after herself (like he was one to talk!), and headed off.

 Well, this trip was sure going to be fun. Not that she didn't want to go to the funeral, not that she wasn't kind of looking forward to seeing her mom. It just seemed kind of… sad that, most of the time, you only got together with your family when something sad like this happened, or at Christmas and Thanksgiving, when everyone was really stressed. No wonder most people ended up hating their families.

 Speaking of which, she'd been promised that Richard -- Mister Annoying, Oh-So-Perfect, Bratty Younger Cousin -- was going to be picking her up at the end of her flight. Great. Jill guessed that being friends with Leon meant she couldn't really say she didn't suffer fools gladly -- but all the same, she'd rather not be related to them.

 She glanced behind her. Leon was still leaning against the back of the old green car, staring into space, distracted. As she watched, he fished his cellphone out of his jacket pocket, looked at it, then put it back. He was frowning.

 And they said women were complicated.

^*^

 "Orcot!"

 Leon blinked.

 "Orcot! Quit daydreaming!"

 "…Huh?"

 "Leon, what the hell are you…? Ah, look, never mind, you just better have that report on my desk before the next half hour's up or I'll -- "

 Leon mumbled what he hoped was a suitably apologetic-sounding response, and did his best to tune out the rest of whatever horrible fate the Chief was promising him if he didn't manage to scratch up something vaguely legible out of the mess of paperwork spilling off his desk before his shift was up. How the fuck he was gonna manage that, he had no idea. Might as well ask him to produce a herd of llamas out of the wastepaper bin. That'd probably be about as easy right now. Maybe with a little help from D…

 He let out a snort, earning another sharp look from the Chief, and let his shoulders slump backwards.

 Hell, it wasn't his fault he hadn't gotten the stupid report done yet. There was other stuff. Outside factors. The Chief was really being pretty unfair on him by not taking those into account. Yeah.

 Yeah. Right. He could just see that. Sorry, Chief, couldn't get my paperwork done today. I've been a little busy trying to work out if I did the right thing jumping into bed with my prime suspect last night…

 Not that it had really been jumping into bed, though. Well, not in that sense. Not really. And Leon guessed that that had to be a good thing. Nothing too serious meant less to worry about.

 Only with the way D'd been acting last night -- the reason they hadn't gotten any further than just kisses -- it looked like he had plenty to worry about anyway. And now Jill wasn't even here to tease him and give him someone to yell at to distract himself. It had been bad enough that she hadn't said much all morning, when she'd been around -- though that was kind of understandable, he guessed, with the funeral and all. It wasn't like he'd been much help, either, after all. He wasn't good at the whole knowing-what-to-say thing, never could think of anything that sounded sincere and not patronising or just plain stupid, and he'd always figured he was better off just keeping his mouth shut so he couldn't put his foot in it. So that was what he'd done. Which had been good in a way, because it had given him time to think about D. But it had also been bad, because it had given him time to think about D.

 And thinking about D sure as hell hadn't gotten any simpler just because they'd made out a little.  Leon still didn't know why D was acting so goddamned weird, still didn't have the tiniest little clue what was going on in D's head, or even what was going on at all, really, because, for some stupid fucking reason that he could hardly even get to grips with himself, he hadn't even been able to ask.

 What he'd said to Jill earlier -- about not thinking D was gonna tell him -- had been pretty much true, he guessed. But it wasn't just that.

 Last night, when he'd kissed D, everything had felt so strange. Not just the kind of slightly-weird that was standard around D, but real, out-of-it, another-world strange. Like he was dreaming or high on something, all of it. The way D had been acting, the way he'd just let himself be held, and kissed, and pushed and pulled around, the fact he hadn't even tried to level things out with any of his usual clever-clever comments. It had been -- well, almost as if the rules that usually held their games, or sparring matches, or whatever you wanted to call them, in check had been suspended, and Leon could do things he'd never have dared to do in a million years, think things he'd never have dared to think. It had been strange, but it hadn't all been bad.

 And then, in the morning, everything had been different again.

 He should have shaken D awake the second he'd opened his own eyes, should have demanded to know what the hell was going on, what D was hiding from him… but, for some reason, he hadn't. He'd just lain there instead, watching D sleep and feeling kind of reassured to see him look peaceful and rested and normal, not like the freaked-out, nervy wreck he'd been the night before. And then, then, D'd woken up and started being all sunny-smiley-polite, like he usually was -- even if Leon had thought that maybe there was something a little guarded about his manner, a little stiffer than usual -- and acting like everything was okay and normal.

 Well, as normal as it could be when Leon had just woken up in D's bed for the second morning running. He still wasn't totally convinced that that didn't mean he was really insane, or dreaming, or in some kind of a crazy parallel universe.

 But yeah, the point was, D seemed to have gotten it back together pretty well, even if he had been a little quiet, and even if it had looked like he was avoiding Leon's eyes at times. And Leon had… well, he guessed lost his nerve was a little strong, but he'd certainly been thrown off, and after a few minutes he'd started to think that maybe he was even imagining the guardedness, the closed look in D's eyes. With D back to being D, he hadn't been quite so sure he'd get those answers he'd been promised, or that, if he did get them, they'd be the real answers, the ones he was after, not just more of D's goddamn philosophical ramblings. After all, D could probably make "I promise" mean anything he wanted if he put his mind to it.

 Still, that wouldn't normally have been enough to put Leon off asking D stuff. He was pretty used to D running rings round him and making him feel like an idiot by now, and it wasn't like once more was gonna do any harm.

 So… So, well, he didn't really have a clue why he hadn't asked what was up, except that he just hadn't been able to, somehow, and he'd been mentally kicking himself about it ever since. Jill had acted like it was all so simple, like he just had to ask and he'd find out, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't that simple, because nothing was ever that simple with D. And however hard he kicked, it didn't bring him any closer to knowing what the hell D's problem was, or what he was meant to do about it, or if he was even meant to do anything about it at all. And instead of going and finding out what was going on, here he was, sitting in the stupid station at this stupid desk, not even going out and doing his job properly, having to try and make himself think about this stupid --

 " -- report!"

Leon blinked. "Uh…?"

 He glanced up, and just had time to register the time on the clock and the fact that he'd never realised how short thirty minutes actually was, before a hefty-looking folder came flying towards his face with some force. He just managed to duck it, and it landed on the floor with a sharp thud. Leon closed his eyes, and groaned. Looked like he wouldn't even be getting away from here anywhere near on time tonight. So it was gonna be even longer before he got to see D again and ask him some of those questions. So he was gonna be stressing about it for even longer. So it was gonna take him fucking hours to write this damn thing. So --

 Head, meet desk.

^*^

 Slowly but steadily, twilight filmed over the sky. D did not need to glance outside to know the exact colour of the evening clouds, to feel the tiny bite of coolness in the air, or to see the hurrying gaits of the people heading homewards after work. It was growing late. The clock ticked loudly.

 Leon should be here by now. Surely it could not be taking him this long to drive from the police station to the pet shop, however bad the traffic. Where on Earth could he be?

 Perhaps, D supposed, he had been held up with a case. Yes: that seemed quite likely. If Leon had been called out to investigate an incident, or if he had had to speak to a witness, he could be on the other side of the city. He might well be some time in getting back. There would be nothing so unusual in that.

 Although, if that were the case, he really ought to have informed D that he was likely to be late. D was not overly fond of telephones, true, but a single call would have been welcome. And it would only have taken Leon a moment. He was really being most inconsiderate by not telephoning. Quite, quite typical. Unless --

 Unless -- and a small, sharp pang cut through D at the thought -- Leon had come to some harm during his work today.

 D had died little deaths of worry over this possibility a hundred times before -- though he would have died a hundred more rather than admit it, even to himself, then -- but today, the thought hung over him a little more closely than usual. There was, of course, no reason why it should be today that Leon finally received some serious injury in the line of duty -- today when they had, at last, come somewhere near admitting their affection -- but, equally, there was no reason why it should not.

 D's father, no doubt, would consider such an event nicely ironic.

 D breathed in deeply, and forced his hands to relax their white-knuckled grip around one another. It simply did not do to worry about things such as this. His concern was most likely unfounded. If Leon were to come to some kind of harm, D felt sure that he would sense it. No creature could spend as much time as Leon had in the company of a kami without the development of some connection beyond the visible, however one-sided. D knew the fates of his customers without ever having to be told, and he held no particular affection for them. If Leon were to be hurt, he would know. There could be no doubt of it.

 And, besides, even that was less awful to consider than the other possibility.

 Leon had said that he would be returning this evening -- had even asked D's permission. He almost always came to the pet shop after work, anyway. There was no reason he should choose to change his habit now.

 Much had changed between them since last night, true -- but Leon still did not know all that D did. He could not begin to guess at how great the difference between them really was -- at D's true nature, or that of his family, or at the trials that might await them were they to pursue this -- this --

 This. D still could not think of a name to suit it, this thing between them that was so new and so strange. He was not accustomed to being lost for words -- but language was a human construction, after all, and by necessity inadequate. Perhaps there were no words for this.

 He wondered how Leon thought of it, all that had happened.

 As far as Leon was concerned, he supposed, all he had done was kiss a man. It was certainly out of the ordinary for him, and D was sure that, even a few weeks ago, he would have found the thought of doing so repellent. But Leon had no clue about the forces with which he had become entangled, or the danger that he might be in. Surely he would not be so easily scared away. Leon's scepticism, his stubborn refusal to believe anything that could not be explained by that human conceit, reason -- they alone should ensure that he would return. He must return.

 As if on cue, the door swung open and cut off D's train of thought. Something Leon was proving rather good at lately.

 "Uh, hey? D?"

 Leon was dishevelled, frowning. There was a small rucksack slung over one of his shoulders.

 It took D only a second to replace his blink of surprise with a small, even smile. He remained seated, hands folded in his lap, careful that no trace of relief should show in his outward demeanour.

 "Good evening, Detective."

 Leon's expression suggested that it took real force of will not to demand, as he so often did, to know why D could not call him by name -- but to his credit, all he did was toss the bag he carried onto the floor, shrug off his jacket, and flop down on the couch opposite D. He jerked his head towards the rucksack.

 "I -- uh -- I brought a change of clothes." Leon swallowed.  "In case, ah -- you know -- " His face was beginning to turn pink. " -- in case I, ah, ended up staying over again. Or anything. Uh. You know." He paused. "You know?"

 By this point, Leon was blushing so fiercely that D could not help a small smile. But he resisted the temptation to reply that no, he was not sure that he did know, or to enquire what, exactly, or anything was supposed to mean. However overcome by relief he might feel, this was no time for levity. Even his relief was most inappropriate, really. So he carried on smiling, instead, and inclined his head graciously, and murmured, "Of course. Tea?".

 He had spent much of the afternoon worrying over the question of what to do once Leon returned from the police station. He simply could not decide on the wisest course of action -- to wait to be questioned about what had happened last night, or to attempt to distract the detective, to keep him from asking. Leon had obviously, and rightly, thought his behaviour quite strange, and D rather doubted that the latter strategy would be very effective. He had been foolish enough to promise answers himself, and Leon was far more stubborn than any mule D had ever come across once he had made up his mind about something. It might be easier to simply deflect his questions, to offer some straightforward explanation that led to no further, more difficult, questions. Leon would as likely believe it as the truth.

 But Leon did not ask -- at least, not directly -- at first. It was just like this morning. He left his tea cooling where D had placed it, and spent rather a lot of time staring distractedly into space, looking far more thoughtful than was usual for him, but did not touch upon the events of the previous night.

 A couple of times, when D had looked away, to stir his tea or to pet Q-chan, who was still looking rather cross, he glanced back up to find Leon staring intently at the front of his cheongsam. His gaze dropped when D's met it, however, and he still said nothing.

 The pattern was rather attractive, D supposed. A swirl of butterflies, golden and violet, descended into a bamboo grove against a background that appeared black, and only revealed itself as violet where light caught its folds. D had been told, by numerous admirers, that it matched his eyes; he usually replied with a gracious smile, and politely neglected to mention that it had been a gift designed specifically for the purpose. He had never, however, expected Leon to show much of an interest in embroidery, or in his clothing at all. Sometimes, he suspected that Leon would not bat an eyelid were D to invite him in for tea wearing a taffeta ballgown. It would be just another dress, after all.

 A moment after the second of those strange glances, Leon cleared his throat. D raised an expectant eyebrow.

 "So, uh, that snake. The one that attacked you."

 He allowed his smile to curve a little more deeply. "I believe I remember it, Detective."

 "I guess they haven't found it. Well, I didn't hear anything about it today, anyway."

 "A single reptile, in a city this size… I rather doubt that the authorities have much chance of locating it."

 "Yeah, I guess." Leon lapsed back into silence, but this time it lasted only a moment. "You're sure that's what it was? A snake?"

 D sniffed. "I should hope, Detective, that I have enough expertise on the animal kingdom to be certain of that."

 Normally, Leon would almost certainly have snapped at him, or at least grumbled that there was no need to be sarcastic. All he did, however, was reply, "Yeah, guess so," and give D another of those strange, questioning looks.

 Faint unease crept beneath D's skin.

 Then, after a minute: "So. Boa constrictor, huh? Guess they can do some pretty serious damage?"

 "They are, perhaps, a little misunderstood, Detective. A boa constrictor has never, to my knowledge, been implicated in the death of a human being. Most are fairly docile creatures." D smiled again, slightly. "All the same, I would not advise you to provoke one in order to find out."

 "Huh."

 Stranger and stranger. Leon rarely showed much curiosity about animals, beyond the occasional demand of "What the hell is that thing?!" when faced with one of D's more unusual pets. Unless, of course, he was attempting to prove that D had sold something dangerous, or at least illegal. For him to take an interest now, so suddenly…

 The unease remained.

 But Leon had not seen the creature, had not even known that D had any such animal in the shop. He could have no reason to suspect that what had attacked D had been anything other than an ordinary reptile -- unless D himself had unwittingly revealed more than he intended to, given away some clue as to the creature's true nature. And that was impossible. He and Leon had spoken little about the creature since it had attacked, and D had been quite careful to guard his words. Even if D had dropped his guard for a moment and let slip some hint, Leon would most likely have dismissed it as craziness.

 "Don't think I ever saw one. Well, maybe in the zoo or something, when I was a kid…"

 "Really, Detective? A pity. They are quite spectacular creatures."

 "Knock you out like that, they'd have to be."

 Leon could not know the truth. It was not possible. Even if D were to tell him the whole story, he would no sooner believe it than a fairytale -- not without the evidence of his own eyes.

 And then -- then, a thought occurred to D.

 He had spent a whole day puzzling over the difficulties of keeping the truth from Leon. And, perhaps, that was the stupidest thing he could possibly, possibly do.

 He had fallen. He had fallen last night, perhaps even before that, he was still falling, and there was no stopping it. There was no use in clutching at blades of grass. How long, really, could he go on like this, Leon knowing his heart, his affection, and not his true nature? D's world had fallen away, and all seemed like madness, but surely this was maddest of all. This could not go on. If D had not already lost his mind, this way, he soon would -- and perhaps Leon, too. And was it fair, really, to allow Leon to follow him down this path with no knowledge of the dangers it led to?

 Of course it was not. And if Leon would not believe the truth if he were told it, why, then, he would find it far more difficult to deny what his own eyes saw.

It would not do to be too rash, however. One must not rush into these things. D would begin slowly.

 His voice remained even, and he was glad of it. "In fact, I have several similar specimens still in the shop. Perhaps you would care to visit them with me?"

 Leon's expression brightened, interest visible in it. "Uh, yeah. Sure." Then he frowned a little. "You sure they're safe?"

 "Quite safe, Detective."

 Leon stood up, nudging the rucksack out of his way with a foot. D started forward, and gestured for him to follow.

 "Although -- on second thoughts, Detective, perhaps I could persuade you to leave the reptiles until tomorrow?" He paused, turned back, and favoured Leon with his most inviting smile. "There is something else I would like to show you."

^*^

 The detective shrugged and nodded. Count D moved off towards a corridor at the rear of the shop, and started down it. After a moment's pause, a tiny glance after him, the human followed. Darkness drew in around them, and filled the spaces where they had been. Their footsteps faded. Silence fell.

 Q-chan fluttered down from the back of the couch, and perched delicately on one of the cushions.

 A moment later, Sofu D rose from his seat, his face set cold. A flick of his wrist sent the animal occupants of the room to sleep. They would remain sleeping for only moments -- but their loyalties to the youngest D were strong enough that they could not be trusted to keep secrets from him, and Sofu did not yet wish to give the child any indication of his presence.

 The young one had, obviously, inherited rather more of his father's recklessness than Sofu had hoped. It was a pity. And dangerous, when the too-quick fire of compassion came close enough to spark it into life. Something must be done.

 What had to be done appeared obvious, at first. All the same, Sofu did not wish to be rid of his grandchild's human… companion… just yet. Ridiculous as the idea might seem, the detective might yet have a use.

 Lately, Sofu had occupied himself rather too much with watching over one child. In his foolishness, he had almost lost sight of the other. His son's recent actions had been, if not wholly surprising, a little unexpected -- and it appeared to be the youngest's attachment to this creature that had provoked them. Sofu could not be wholly sure what would happen next. He had not watched long enough. He would wait a little.

 Unfortunate, that his grandson should have developed so much affection for such a creature. If only Sofu had caught sight of it earlier… but the wisdom of hindsight was useless. The damage was done. The child had, to all appearances, given his heart to a creature who would, in any case, soon die and leave him to nothing but grief, and who might do far worse. Humans had scant regard for nature, or for life. They hunted, even without necessity; they took pleasure in it, treated it as sport.

 Ironic, really. Sofu had always thought that they served far better as bait.

 He pulled his cloak, and the darkness with it, around himself a little more closely, and was gone.

 Q-chan chirped, and helped himself to a strawberry.

^*^

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