Name: Androgene

Website: http://www.angelfire.com/space/noir13

Email: androgene@lycos.com

Title: The Wolf and the Abyssinian

Summary: a Rurouni Kenshin and WeiB Kreuz crossover, with both worlds fused into an alternate one.

Date of completion: 15 November 2001

Category: Drama, action, yaoi

Pairings: SaitoxAya, hints of YohjixAya

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their individual creators. Rurouni Kenshin™ is created by Nobuhiro Watsuki and WeiB Kreuz™ is created by Takehito Koyasu and Project WeiB. I don't own them and I don't profit from using these characters.

Author's comments: I can't help it. The idea of a SaitoxRan pairing just popped in my head while I was writing my other fanfic and it won't leave!

Warning: This is a yaoi story, meaning it had homosexual themes in it. Whether or not there are sex scenes, I don't know yet. But when that happens, I'll warn ya. So if you're uncomfortable with yaoi story, don't read it. It's as simple as that.

~ The Wolf & The Abyssinian ~

a WeiB Kreuz-Ruroni Kenshin crossover

Introduction

Many decades ago, there was an extremely wealthy and powerful man by the name of Takatori Saijou. He was the head of the Takatori clan, a proud noble family that could trace its roots back to the beginning of the Tokugawa era. Saijou-sama was a brilliant and shrewd man who saw far into the future. He saw the cloak-and-dagger games the politicians played, the corruption tainting the future of his country and decided to protect his country's future as best as he could.

Thus, with his family influence and wealth, he created a clandestine organization. He named it Kritiker, for its purpose was to 'criticize' the wrongdoers who operated in the shadows. In Kritiker, he established his information network to collect evidence and expose the corruption among the sinners. Next, he formed the Crashers, those who set entrapments to catch the sinners red-handed in the act. The Crashers were ruthless and given a free rein in entrapping the criminals for the law to apprehend. But both Crashers and Kritiker were strictly forbidden to kill.

In the beginning he thought it would be enough. Surely with the kind of power Kritiker and Crashers wield, it would be easy to check the growing corruption and power of the underworld. But time passed and soon proved him wrong. Not only did the criminals slip through the fingers of justice easily, he discovered that there were those that the law was unable to touch at all. So finally he created his executioners.

WeiB - the White Hunters - his highly trained assassin unit. Only WeiB was allowed to hunt down the terrible criminals the law cannot touch. And only they were allowed to spill the black sinners' blood, for they were justice's executioners. Perhaps, among his three organizations, it was WeiB who bore the heaviest burden for they walked the fine line between justice and sin.

Kritiker flourished and grew in power, helping to keep the country in order and stable. But Saijou-sama was not a foolish man. He knew power corrupts, and absolute power such as his corrupts absolutely. So he created a watchdog group, to watch over his organizations and ensure that they would not stray from the ideals that formed them.

The Mibu's Wolves answered to no one but to Saijou-sama alone. Their task was to watch over his organizations, readied at all times to cut them down if they were ever to stray from their ideals. They do not interfere but merely watch and guard.

Many decades passed, as Saijou-sama led his organizations in their dedication of keeping their nation safe from harm. But he grew old and turned the reins of leadership over to his sons, Reiji-sama the elder and Shuuichi-sama the younger. His hope was that the brothers would work together and lead his organizations and the country to a better future. But Reiji-sama proved susceptible to the corruption of power. As the years went by, he began to consolidate his power, plotting to wrest his brother's share of leadership away. Shuuichi-sama knew of his brother's ambition. Unwilling to see his father's efforts twisted to his brother's selfish greed, he took steps in countering Reiji-sama's power plot.

During this period of troubled time, the leader of the Mibu's Wolves was a man named Saito Hajime. He was a lone wolf, a hunter and a ruthless killer who lived only by his strict coda of justice - Aku. Soku. Zan. His golden eyes saw the power struggle between the brothers and quietly readied his Wolves in preparation for the day they would carry out their gruesome duty.

A fearsome legend led WeiB during the same period. He was a small and slender man, with waist-long red hair and delicate features. He was often mistaken for a pretty girl until one saw the cold emptiness in his violet eyes. Because he killed with such swift ruthlessness, he was simply known as the Hitokiri Battousai - his real name had been all but buried under the stories he had garnered during his bloody career. The Hitokiri Battousai sensed the brewing conflict and he too discreetly prepped his team for the day they would choose side and defend it to the last.

The conflict exploded suddenly, starting with an attack on the estate of Takatori Shuuichi. Anticipating the attack, Shuuichi-sama retaliated at once. And very quickly, the shadowy worlds of Kritiker, Crashers and WeiB descended into chaos. Friendships were torn apart as each chose their leader; countless lives were lost in the bloody struggle for domination. The ideals on which each organization was built were forgotten; the people blinded by the chaos.

During this war, the Hitokiri Battousai and WeiB stood by Shuuichi-sama. Bearing a freshly scarred cheek, he savagely cut a bloody swath through his enemies, earning their terror and hatred.

The wag raged on.

The Mibu's Wolves of Justice gathered to swoop down and crash everything in its path. But as they descended upon the madness like avenging angels, a deceiver betrayed them from within. Caught off guard, the Mibu's Wolves were slaughtered, leaving Saito alone to confront and kill the betrayer.

In the months to come, Shuuichi-sama successfully wrest full control from his brother, taking all three organizations firmly in his hands. His victory spelt the end of a long bloody war but it had not came without its price.

Many had died in the war.

A good number of those who lived to see the end defected to Reiji-sama's side. Reiji-sama took them overseas and rebuilt them into the SS and SZ, cementing an alliance with the mysterious Estet.

The Mibu's Wolves were completely wiped out, leaving Saito as its lone survivor. It was said that the last Mibu's Wolf had gone underground before reemerging with a new identity, still protecting his country by his rigid coda. How true this was, no one knew.

The Hitokiri Battousai was also the sole survivor of WeiB. Reportedly to be sickened by the bloodshed and sorrows, he disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. Rumors had it that he traversed the globe in search of redemption but no one could confirm the rumors.

Shuuichi-sama spent the later half of his life rebuilding the three organizations. The Mibu's Wolves were laid to rest, as it was difficult to find talents who were willing to live with the same unforgiving coda Saito believed in. Kritiker was revived, and so was Crashers. WeiB was rebuilt twice - WeiB II failing with the supposed death of Shion. In its third incarnation, Shuuichi-sama placed a prodigy whom he could never acknowledge as his son and an icy redhead whose physical appearance reminded him much of his vanished dear friend.

He knew his brother would return one day. And he was not disappointed.

The reappearance of Takatori Reiji in Japan announced the beginning of a second dark period. This time, Reiji-sama slyly and subtly maneuvered his organizations SZ and SS into positions, readying for the day he would take over the country and crush his brother's power once and for all.

The consequences were well known in Kritiker's history.

In the brief but terrifying days of martial law, the entire country of Japan was held in a virtual stranglehold in the palm of Takatori Reiji.

In freeing the country, Takatori Shuuichi known to his organization as Persia and King sacrificed his life.

In the vacuum left behind and after the defeat of Estet at the hands of WeiB, a second power struggle brought Kritiker to its collective knees.

But this time, the present WeiB took no part in the power struggle. Pawns themselves, they barely survived an attack by a rogue assassin unit claiming their name. In Kritiker's weakened state, the organizations were helpless in stopping the machinations of a rising would-be tyrant - Shishio Makoto.

Alarmed at the ease and speed at which Shishio and his Juppon Gatana consolidated their power, Shinomori Aoshi - leader of the government's secret spy group Oniwa Banshuu - hatched a desperate plan to stop the would-be tyrant. With much difficulty, he tracked down both Saito and the former Hitokiri Battousai and convinced them to join his cause. Together, they returned to Tokyo to put a stop to Shishio's insane plans of domination.

The end of the power struggle within Kritiker came swiftly as well. In the aftermath, the last Takatori assumed the mantle of Persia and took over the leadership of all three organizations. He was determined never to allow Kritiker descend into the madness for the third time.

As the fighters rest and recuperate, normalcy descended once more onto the worlds of Kritiker.

Opening

Click.

A small flame flared, then quickly extinguished. A cigarette butt glowed in the moonlit darkness and the quiet sound of exhalation whispered in the silence. Narrowed golden eyes remained fixed on the full moon outside the open window, ignoring the glowing screen of the computer behind him.

That was how Cho found the Mibu's Wolf. Sitting alone in his darkened office, silent and still, the thin curl of smoke drifting upward in the air the only sign of movement. The brooding man gave no indication that he noticed his presence as the former gunrunner stepped further into the office.

"Oi." Cho glanced at his watch. "It's way past midnight already. You're late for your duel with Himura."

Saito Hajime languidly took another puff of his cigarette. "Who says I'm going?" he inquired calmly.

Cho gaped at the back of the man. He marched over to the desk, peered at the computer screen and pointed vigorously at it. "There! Didn't Himura Kenshin send you that email?"

"The one whom I want to duel with is the Hitokiri Battousai. Not the person who sent me that email." Saito flicked the ash from his cigarette. "A wolf is always a wolf, a hitokiri is forever a hitokiri. That's what I used to believe. But it seems that I was wrong."

Cho rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't understand you. Battousai and Himura Kenshin are one and the same person. What's the difference in fighting him now?"

"I don't expect you to understand. Dueling with Himura now will not give me any satisfaction." Saito rose from his chair, stumping out his cigarette in his overflowing ashtray. "That's the facts of the matter."

And it left a hard lump of discontentment in Saito's stomach.

Though the Mibu's Wolf and the Hitokiri Battousai used to work for Kritiker, they were rivals. Their philosophies were as different as day and night and they had clashed many times, trying to prove which of them was the stronger and more skilled fighter. That was before the brothers Takatori's power struggle torn the organizations apart and they were left to survive the aftermath on their own.

Now years later, the collapse of Estet and a second power struggle within Kritiker gave Shishio Makoto a way to consolidate his own power and conquer the country. Kritiker was helpless in stopping the would-be tyrant, being too engrossed in its own problems. It had taken the concerted efforts of the government's Oniwa Banshuu, the last Mibu's Wolf and the former Hitokiri Battousai to defeat Shishio and his Juppon Gatana.

But what galls Saito the most was the fact he had not once seen the Battousai in action during their enforced alliance.

Though both the Battousai and Kenshin were one and the same, the two personalities were so different that they were distinctive. It was not to say Himura was schizophrenic. It was simply two sides of the same coin. But now it seems only one side was left - that of Himura Kenshin. In all the life-and-death struggles Kenshin had with Shishio, Saito had never once seen the Battousai emerge. It was Himura fighting all the time, with the Battousai's fierceness tempered by Kenshin's newfound love for life.

The Hitokiri Battousai was well and truly dead.

It left a bitter taste of disappointment in Saito's mouth. Never would he be able to resolve his enmity with the Battousai. Never would they know who was the stronger of the two.

A sudden gust of wind rushed in, scattering papers and cigarette ashes.

Cho shivered. "Brr…"

Saito lit a fresh cigarette. "Chilly wind."

"It should be," Cho retorted. "It's almost autumn."

Saito blew out a cloud of smoke as he gazed out at the rooftops of the high-rise buildings. "That idiot."

From that day onward, Himura Kenshin's path never crossed with Saito's again. Days later, the last Mibu's Wolf vanished into the night, taking with him his strict coda of justice - Aku. Soku. Zan.

* * *

"Oh right! We're back!" Hidaka Ken cheered as he tossed his belongings into a far corner and threw himself onto the sheet-covered couch. He immediately sat up, sneezing mightily, as the cloud of accumulated dust settled around him. "Damn."

Tsukiyono, or Takatori Mamoru, as he was known now, couldn't stifle his laugh at Ken's antics. "Ken-kun, the place hasn't been lived in for months. Now help me with the sheet. Aya-kun needs a place to rest."

Ken sneezed again as he got up, dusted off his clothes, and proceeds to help his young friend.

They have uncovered the couch just as Kudoh Yohji entered the apartment with their convalescing friend cradled carefully in his arms. Aya rested limply against the blond's chest, eyes closed and face extremely pale. He was obviously exhausted from their long journey from Kyoto and still painfully unwell. His short-hemmed shirt rode up slightly and Ken could see the white bandages covering his torso.

The sight of those bandages never failed to remind Ken of those nightmarish days in Kyoto where WeiB was a mobile assassin unit. He shuddered at the memories of his near-descent into permanent bloodlust, of WeiB caught up in the power struggle between splintering factions of Kritiker, of a false WeiB who had nearly taken destroyed them. They hadn't known who was right or wrong, or even whom to trust. The only two they could trust - Manx and Birman - were dead, giving their lives in their attempts to stop the bloodshed.

In the chaos and the fight for survival, WeiB had nearly lost one of their own.

Fujimiya Ran, or Aya as he was better known, fought and won the battle against Shion, effectively ending the uncontrolled carnage by the false WeiB. His former mentor died in that duel, but Ran did not escape unscathed either. Despite being months later, Ken would never forget the sharp stab of terror when he saw Aya simply collapsing into unconsciousness after the duel.

Aya stirred when Yohji carefully laid him onto the couch, trying not to jar the multiple healing wounds about his body. Tired dull eyes opened as his friend covered him with a wool blanket.

"Comfortable?" Yohji asked.

"Hn…" came the typical Aya response. "Where…?"

"We're back in Tokyo, Aya-kun." Omi beamed happily at him from behind the backrest. He gestured broadly at the empty apartment. "You'll love this place. Shop at the ground floor, living quarters on the second and all the bedrooms on the third. Enough privacy for everyone, even you, without having to scatter."

"Too bad you won't be joining us," Yohji said with some regret. "Gonna miss you, kiddo."

Omi had taken his place beside his grandfather's side, rebuilding all three organizations - Kritiker, Crashers and WeiB - under the identity of Persia.

"Takatori Estate is not that far away from here. I'll drop by for visits. Some goes for you guys." Omi's cheery expression darkened. "I feel like I'm abandoning you guys though."

"You're not," Aya replied, voice exhausted but certain. "Kritiker is not something that we can afford to leave unmanaged. Persia's death has taught us that much. The only way to regain control of it is by a Takatori - that's you."

Aya paused, catching his breath. "You can handle it despite your age, Omi. And if you ever need WeiB, you just have to call us."

Omi smiled brilliantly, touched by Aya's words. His stoic friend seldom speaks, so his sentiments now were all the more important to him. "Arigato, Aya-kun."

"So what now?" Ken asked. "It will be at least three months before he's even mobile."

"Rest and heal," Omi replied. The youngest of them looked at his friends. "We all need the break after what happened. I think we could all use a dose of normal life for a while."

"So WeiB will be inactive for, what, three to six months?" Yohji questioned.

"Of course. It will take Aya that long to get back in shape."

"Good." Yohji stretched lazily. "I'm looking forward to the vacation."

"Not so fast," Ken said. "We have to open our flower shop in a month's time."

The playboy gave Ken a flat look. "That's not funny."

"Never said I was joking," Ken grinned.

So WeiB returned to where it all began for them - Tokyo and to the darkness of corruption where they exist as the executioners for justice.

Act One Scene One - One Year Later

Situated somewhere between the busy city center and the northern suburban district was a small stretch of neighborhood, consisting of semi-residential buildings and small shops that sells very specialized and often rare goods. A flower shop would have found it difficult to survive in an area catering to such eclectic tastes, but survived it did and it even flourished, much to the bemusement of other shopkeepers. Never mind the fact that the florists owned the building and were therefore rich enough to afford not working. Still…

The success of the flower shop defied all commercial logic.

After all, the flower shop was situated in what could easily be labeled as the wrong location and it was tucked away in a corner, facing away from the main street. If it were not for the signboard, nobody would even know it exist.

The shop was called K.a.Y, and it sells…well, flowers (duh). Its reputation for being well versed in the rare arts of the traditional Ikebana and the Victorian language of flowers was spread by word-of-mouth and nothing to laugh about. Many wealthy people and those who appreciate the uncommon art forms flocked to this flower shop; they were the type willing to pay gold for very specific and unique arrangements.

There was another - ahem, more lighthearted - aspect to the flower shop's reputation. The shop's popularity with the young crowd - especially among teenaged girls - bordered on fan idolization. On any given day, the flower shop was practically flooded with hordes of young teenaged schoolgirls all clambering to flirt with the florists.

And that was a never-ending source of amusement for the neighborhood.

Because, really, where else in Japan can you find a flower shop ran by three extremely and archetypically handsome young men?

There was the boyish athletic brunette who was oblivious to his own handsomeness, extremely clumsy around the shop but a fleet-footed devil on the soccer field. He is the all-round nice guy, the boy-next-door whom any parents would approve of for their daughter's date.

Then there was the tall rakish blond who was definitely not parental approval type. Laidback, oozing sex and charm with devastating ease, the playboy of the trio was a master of the casual fling and knows how attractive some women find that danger to be.

Last was the redhead most have privately labeled as the exotic, icy beauty. No matter how tempting he was, everyone in the neighborhood learnt swiftly at the onset never to cross him. When provoked, the man's scathing replies were known to cause great damage. Despite that, his brooding nature was serious attraction to young girls who didn't know any better and got them tripping over themselves.

Usually, his response was -

"If you're not buying anything, get out!"

On the whole, the flower shop was unusual, a fresh deviation from the norm.

Yohji watched regretfully as the last of the schoolgirls reluctantly exited the shop. "Oi, Aya, you've scared the customers away." He smiled and blew a kiss at a bold one who winked at him.

"They're only customers if they are buying anything in the first place," Aya countered. "You're simply encouraging their bad habits."

The playboy eyed the irate redhead with lazy mischief. "Not all of them are here to see me, Aya-kun. If I remember correctly, you have quite a following yourself too - all fighting to be the first to melt that icy armor and find that heart beneath."

Aya snorted indelicately. "They need a life."

The bells above the door jingled again.

"I'm home!" sang out a cheerful voice.

"Track mud on the floor and you're cleaning it," Aya threatened without missing a beat.

With a yelp, Ken quickly withdrew his outstretched muddy foot from the threshold of the shop entrance. "Gomen," he said sheepishly. "I forgot."

"Hn." Aya tossed him a pair of indoor slippers, placed in the shop for such occasions.

"Ne, Ken-kun, you are still as forgetful as ever."

Ken turned, breaking into a grin when he saw who stood behind him on the pavement. "Omi!"

"Yo, bishounen." Yohji greeted as he straightened from his slouched position.

"Minna," Omi greeted happily as he entered the shop, leaving Ken outside to change his footwear.

Aya's expression remained unsmiling but the lines of his face were soft. "It's been some time, Omi. You have lost weight."

"Ah," The genki and generally optimistic teenaged boy raked a hand through his blond hair. "Rebuilding an empire and studying at the same time isn't easy, Aya-kun."

Ken clucked his tongue when he finally entered the shop in slippers. "Then it's up to us, your family, to fatten you up."

"You can do that later, Ken-kun, when we are done."

Aya paused in mid-wipe and stared curiously at Omi. There was something in the teenaged boy's voice that alerted the assassin in him. Then he knew. Omi only wore that look during missions. A thrill of anticipation ran through him. "Are we…?"

"Hai." Omi's smile faded. The genki charm disappeared and for a moment a Takatori stood in their shop, with all the dignity of the late Shuuichi Takatori.

"I am reactivating WeiB as of this moment."

The mission room in the basement was the least used room of the apartment building.

Coming down the stairs, Omi could still smell the mustiness of the room. As Ken flipped on the light switch, Omi did a cursory check. The mission room was set up similarly to the old one at Koneko, with the couches, computer and a large television set. The only difference was the newness and unlived-in quality.

Yohji and Ken flopped down onto the couch, while Aya leaned against the wall behind them, as was his wont. Omi took the place where Manx once stood - in front of them. It was odd to find himself in this position - the role of the go-between.

"Why do you want to reactivate WeiB?" Aya asked straight to the point as always.

"Because I need you," Omi replied simply. "The number of able teams Kritiker currently has is at an all-time low. The internal conflict has decimated our ranks quite thoroughly. I need every full team that survived the upheaval to help rebuild Kritiker."

"WeiB isn't a full team at the moment," Ken pointed out. "We're still shorting of one."

"I couldn't find a replacement," Omi smirked. "It's tough to find someone as good as me."

Yohji let out a bark of laughter. "Score one for Omi and none for Kenken."

"What do you want us to do?" Aya spoke up.

"The underground world knows that Kritiker has been weakened and will be for some time. They are taking this opportunity to strengthen their powers. I have my hands full cleaning up the mess inside Kritiker. I don't have the extra manpower to spend fighting these Yakuza. I need you guys to help me out on that front."

Omi sat down, folding his hands across his lap. "Kritiker must be shown to these people to be alive and well. A warning to them that we will not sit down and allow them to rampage through society unchecked. Our presence must be felt and I can't think of a better team than WeiB to do so."

The remaining WeiB looked at each other.

Then Yohji finally shrugged and kicked back his feet. "We always know this day would come."

"So when do you want us to start?" Ken inquired.

"How about right now?"

Act One Scene Two - Two days later

The nightclub was one of the more happening spots in town. Occupying a former warehouse, it catered to people from all walks of life who needed one form of escape or another. While Ken kept watch outside under the pretext of waiting for his date, both Aya and Yohji went into the club separately.

WeiB's target, Takeda Kanryou, was the owner of this club. He was also the leading drug manufacturer in Tokyo, a dangerous man with connections even in the government. The destruction of his operations and his death would send the message Persia wanted to spread like a wave through the underground organizations.

The preliminary stage of their mission was simple. Persia needed to know where Takeda's drug lab was. WeiB was to find and deliver that information to him. Since Takeda often conducted his business in his nightclub, it was a logical place to start looking.

That doesn't mean that Aya have to like it though. Nightclubs were Yohji's kind of place, not his. Aya liked his personal space - the more the better. The crowds pressing in around him and the dark smoky air made him longed to be as far away from here as possible, away from the countless hungry and lusty stares he could feel directed at him. Curse Yohji and his insistence on him to wear clubbing clothes. Aya felt like a whore in Yohji's skin-tight leather gear. How was he going to reach the back office unnoticed?

Aya stiffened when he felt someone slithered up to him, slipping an arm around his waist. Narrowed violet eyes glared at the intruder, ready to do bodily damage.

"Relax, beautiful." Yohji murmured next to his ear in order to be heard over the din. "Just going to get you out of sight, so work with me."

Reluctantly Aya allowed himself to be pulled into the writhing mass on the dance floor. The crush of bodies pressed Aya flushed up against Yohji. He couldn't help but blush at the close contact, hoping that Yohji wouldn't notice his awkwardness.

"Dance a little," Yohji said. "You'll stick out like a sore thumb if you don't."

Aya had never gone clubbing before in his life. He hadn't had the faintest idea how to dance either. With only one person to guide him - and that was Yohji - Aya began mimicking his partner's moves, undulating and swaying in time with the music. Yohji flashed him a grin of approval, to which he rolled his eyes at.

Together the two assassins slowly and gradually moved across the dance floor, heading for the back of the club. Finally they extricated themselves from the body crush and Yohji pulled Aya into a small hidden corner underneath the staircase.

"Wha -?"

"This way, you won't draw attention because they think you and I are having a hot session." Aya could hear the grin in his voice. The blond playboy - damn him - was having entirely too much fun at his expense. Yohji shifted slightly. "See that door behind me?"

Aya peered over his shoulder and saw the velvet-covered door in question. It was half-hidden behind the staircase. An 'employee only' sign was nailed to it.

"One of the waitresses told me that there's a stairs leading to Takeda's office through that way."

"Let me guess, you also got her number as well."

"Well, duh."

Aya rolled his eyes again. He waited until a waiter exited through the door and quickly, stealthily slipped through the closing gap. The door swung closed behind him, reducing the level of music to a constant thump felt through the wall. He crept swiftly and silently down the empty corridor, alert for any people still around, by passing the employee pantry and locker room.

At the end of the corridor, he found the staircase Yohji told him about and went up to the second floor. The doors on this level were labeled, simplifying his search. One gloved hand tested the doorknob to Takeda's office and he decided that it could be picked. Like a ghost he slipped into the dark office, lit periodically by the spotlights flashing through the viewing window from the dance floor below, and locked the door behind him. Keeping carefully away from the window, Aya made his way to the desk and booted up the computer.

Aya was nowhere near Omi's hacking skills, but he was proficient enough to navigate through the files and find what he was looking for. He slipped in a floppy disk and quickly copied information, waiting impatiently for the computer to finish copying.

50%…55%…60%… he silently counted.

His head jerked up from the screen when he heard the footsteps approaching his way. Acting swiftly, he turned off the monitor and hunched down behind the desk, hoping that the noise from below would cover the sounds of the computer busy at work.

Aya heard a key turned and the door creaked open. Light slated into the darkened office as the guard took a cursory check. What seemed like an eternity later, the door closed again. Aya let out a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding. He must be seriously rusty if such a tiny disruption was enough to agitate him.

Crawling cautiously out from under the desk, Aya turned the monitor back on. Retrieving the floppy disk, he shut down the computer and tucked the disk securely into a hidden pocket in his leather jacket. Checking to see if the corridor was empty, Aya slipped out of the office, locked the door and calmly, quickly made his way back to the stairs. He was almost halfway down the stairs when he spotted someone coming up from below and smoothly backtracked.

"Hey, you!"

Aya didn't bother to look back. He proceeded further up the stairs to the third level, breaking into a run when he reached the top. There were few doors up here and even fewer that were unlocked. He slipped into the first unlocked room he came across, shutting the door as quietly as he could.

The hair on the back of his neck rose at the same time he heard a voice behind him.

"Well, you must be Takeda-san's surprise."

Act One Scene Three

The minute the words left his mouth, Saito Hajime knew he was wrong. Golden eyes narrowed as the newcomer spun round, taking note of the unconscious grace, the defensive stance and the twitching hand, as though aching for a weapon. The only source of light was the lamp on the table next to his armchair, casting the rest of the room in shadows, preventing Saito from making out the face of this unexpected surprise. From the little he could see, however, Saito knew it was a male, a young male tense but calm.

Impressive. Out of curiosity, Saito decided to drum up his mistaken notion. "Come forward into the light."

There was a pause and cautiously the younger man stepped forward.

Saito's heart skipped a beat. The wild thought that Kenshin was here flashed through his mind, to be discarded just as quickly. Whoever this exotic young man was, he was not Battousai though his colorings resembled that of the former hitokiri.

And he was so very beautiful.

Short crimson hair, ending in the odd eartails. Skin so pale that it could have been carved from alabaster. Finely chiseled but distinctively masculine features. And eyes the color of purple orchids, hard and cold. Saito looked him over, taking in the lithely muscled body encased in skin-tight leather that left little to the imagination. So fucking beautiful and sexy that he would make even a straight man lust openly for him.

"Exquisite."

Violet eyes narrowed. Saito smiled inwardly. Judging from the offended reaction, the young man was certainly not a whore. Which made the game all the more amusing.

"Come here."

The young man glared at him instead. Abruptly his gaze jerked back to the door. Both men could hear the sounds of doors opening and closing as the security guards combed through the levels. That seemed to make up the young man's mind. In quick steps, he was across the room and in Saito's lap, straddling him in a very intimate manner.

Saito's eyebrows quirked up in surprise. The young man's sudden change of mind was not unpleasant. In fact having a lapful of the slender and sexy man was downright arousing. His heartbeat sped up when the younger man wound his arms about his shoulders and neck, pressing closer to him till there was barely space between them, head bent as though to kiss him.

The door suddenly banged open. Saito's golden eyes narrowed at the intrusion. At the same time, he felt the young man tensed in his arms, keeping his face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"What is the meaning of this?" Saito questioned frigidly.

"Gomen nasai, Fujito-san. But I've spotted an unauthorized person wandering about. We are just searching for him."

"Oh? How does the intruder look like?"

"I didn't have a good look, Fujito-san. But he looked a bit like him."

The absolute rigidity in the young man sprawled across his lap told Saito all he needed to know. He debated whether to turn the young man over but decided against it.

"Well, he's not your intruder. He has been with me all the while, a gift from Takeda-san."

"O-our apologies, Fujito-san. We are not aware of that. We will leave at once."

The door closed behind them.

Aya waited tersely for another moment before pushing away from the lean man he was curled up against. A startled noise escaped him as he was abruptly pulled back against the hard lean chest again. Arms pinned between them, all he could do was glare at the lecherous man.

"Release me," he demanded tightly.

"So he can speak," came the amused reply. "I don't suppose you are the intruder they're looking for."

Aya tried again to pull free but the steel grip wouldn't relent.

"I deserve some kind of payment for helping you out." One white-gloved hand lightly grasped him by the back of his head, effectively stopping his struggles.

Aya froze. Those golden eyes - coolly assessing, calculating and so intense - they reminded him of the eyes of a wolf on the hunt and he was the prey. He had never seen eyes like these before, nor had he ever felt this way.

The lean austere face bent, a hint of a dangerous smile curving the thin lips. "I think I'll take this as payment."

Thin lips descended, taking Aya's mouth in a hard kiss. For a wild moment, Aya's mind refused to work, eyes impossibly wide with shock. The kiss continued, expert teeth and tongue caressing his full lips, sending shivers down his spine. It was a closed-mouth kiss but the sheer relentless passion in it was enough to make Aya tremble with need.

The desire to kiss back was what jolted him into action. Tearing almost brutally away, Aya struggled to break free. Surprisingly enough, the dangerous man released him. Aya stumbled backward, one hand covering his mouth. He could still feel his lips burning from that kiss.

The man smirked, the tip of his tongue licking his lips. "Till we meet again, kitten."

Aya bolted.

Saito remained where he was, smirking with sheer pleasure. Leaning his head back, he licked his lips again, still tasting the sweetness of the young man. His mind, however, was assessing the consequences of the entry of an unexpected force. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together, especially when he heard rumors of a second redhead leading WeiB.

Now Kritiker was back and they have obviously taken an interest in his quarry too.

Saito lit up a cigarette, watching the curling smoke with languid glittering eyes.

This was turning out to be an interesting mission.

Author's post-script:

I guess it's pretty obvious to everyone by now who's the seme and who's the uke. It's funny but I could never picture Aya as seme. He just seems too beautiful for that. Anyway, this act took a long time in development. When I mean long, it usually means half to one full year. Yep, that bad. I didn't want them meeting under ordinary circumstances, neither do I want them meeting in the midst of danger. For some reason, the nightclub seems to be a good compromise and a very, very suitable to their first…ahem, introduction.

How I even come up with this crossover is something I don't quite understand myself. It just whamped me over the head and it's impossible to put aside. It started as two PWPs but I don't really like to do aimless writing, so here it is with some kind of plot.