Name: Androgene

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

Email: androgene@lycos.com

Title: The Wolf and the Abyssinian - Act 2

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

Date of completion: 19 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

Act Two Scene One - A Week Later

"Aya? Aya!"

Aya blinked as he suddenly noticed the hand waving in front of his face - and beyond that, the poor drowned potted plant. Cursing mentally, he quickly put aside the watering can and hurriedly poured out the excess water from the pot.

"What's bothering you, Aya?" Ken asked in concern. "You've been so distracted ever since our last mission."

"I'm fine," the redhead replied shortly.

"Fine doesn't cut it, Aya. This is the third plant you almost drowned this week." Ken folded his arms. "Something must have gone wrong on that mission."

"Nothing went wrong on the mission. I'm just thinking that's all."

"Brooding, you mean."

Aya refused to deign that with a response. He replaced the rescued potted plant on the shelf and glanced at the clock. Another minute until his shift is over. He debated whether to leave on time or wait until Yohji arrives, then decided on the former. Knowing Yohji, he would be fashionably late by at least fifteen minutes. Aya took off his apron and hung it up on the peg behind the counter.

"I'll be out late," he told Ken.

"Where are you going?"

"A walk."

He pulled on a jacket and left the flower shop. Outside a chill wind blew. It was still autumn but already the temperature had plummeted. Aya buttoned up his jacket and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets. Gaze fixed to the pavement, he wandered down the street.

The memory of that night was still burnt deeply in his mind. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't forget that man - the leanness of that angular face, the sheer confidence and power in that lean body. Golden eyes that had noted and categorized him in one glance, watching him like a wolf on the prowl.

Aya shivered, one hand unconsciously reaching up to his lips.

He couldn't forget how the man had taken his first kiss and in return gave him the knowledge that he actually liked the kiss. He knew he was sorely lacking in education when it comes to intimacy. His reserved introverted nature, coupled with his family tragedy and later on, a single-minded focus on revenge didn't leave any room in his life for flirting. He didn't know how to handle such situations. Hell, he hadn't even known he was inclined to his own gender.

When he left the club that night, it took all his willpower to maintain his impassive mask in front of his friend. Inside, he was a mess - his body thrumming with strange but not unpleasant sensations and his emotions in turmoil. He didn't understand how a single kiss could affect him that much. It was just physical contact, that's all. But for a week after the mission, Aya kept waking up in the middle of the night, sweating and panting, a heavy ache between his legs that demanded attention. He couldn't remember his dreams, except for hints of golden eyes gleaming with possessive passion.

Aya sighed, looking up to his surroundings.

His feet had automatically taken him to the park, a tiny green haven in a concrete jungle. This was where he spent most of his free time when he was not working at the flower shop or on a mission. It was quiet and peaceful here, a place where for a few moments, he could pretend to be who he was supposed to be - a simple florist leading a quiet normal life.

Aya sat down at his customary bench, violet gaze fixed on the small children playing on the playground nearby. His hard gaze softened as he remembered days past where he used to bring his imouto to the playground near their house. One hand absently reached up to his earlobe, rubbing the naked flesh, feeling the tiny hole where the one half of his sister's earrings used to be.

Not for the first time, loneliness raked their cold fingers across his heart. His vengeance was completed and his imouto awake and well, living her life now. He could have reunite with her, but he chose not to. Aya-chan didn't need a brother whose hands were stained with blood and sin. It would be better for everyone if they never meet.

Cold comfort.

At twenty-one, hovering at the cusp of legal adulthood, Aya was left with nothing now, but the skills for killing and flowers. He had willingly sold his soul to this life and it was too late to back out. He fully understood this when he accepted Kritiker's offer on that fateful day but the knowledge didn't stop the emptiness aching within him.

The muffled sound of his cell phone ringing broke his morose reverie.

"Moshi-moshi."

"Aya," Ken said over the line. "Omi's here for 'dinner'."

"Ah. I'm coming home now."

Act Two Scene Two - The Next Night

Aya ran as though the demons were at his heels, which was not that far from the truth. Last he counted, there were five henchmen chasing him through the alleys and back streets of Tokyo.

In the distance, several streets away, the building that once housed Takeda's drug lab was burning merrily to the ground - courtesy of WeiB. It wasn't easy though. Kritiker hadn't been able to get a fix on the number of guards in that place, and WeiB barely managed completed their mission and get out there in one piece. They have split up to increase their chances of escape. Aya was on his own, weaving a confusing path through the city in his attempt to shake off his pursuers.

There were seven henchmen after him. Aya had cut down two before a bullet rendered his right arm useless. Every move he made sent sparks of pain shooting up his arm. Blood seeped from his wound, running down the sleeve of his leather trench coat to fall in scarlet droplets from his fingertips. He was leaving a trail any idiot could follow and he was almost on the verge of blacking out from the loss of blood. But he held on grimly, unwilling to let some nameless thugs snuff out his life in a cold nameless alley.

Aya stumbled to a halt, cursing. He had taken a wrong turn somehow and now found himself in a dead end. He didn't stop to think. When cornered, do the unexpected. The wounded redhead whirled round and charged his pursuers, bloody katana singing in a wide slash. Seizing their hesitation brought about by their surprise, he cut them down in a series of quick attacks. Crimson blood splattered the alleyway, shining almost black under the moon.

The last of the henchmen somehow managed to evade his attack. Aya turned, stumbling a little as his head swam with dizziness. The sudden weakness brought him down to one knee, held up only by his katana.

Get up!

Gritting his teeth, Aya began struggling desperately to his feet, trying to put up some kind of defense to meet his opponent's attack. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the flash of a-a…fang(?) and the shadow that darted past him to savagely cut down the henchman. Warm blood splashed across his face, jolting him from the haze of pain that threatened to drown him.

Aya hauled himself to his feet, his left hand raising his katana defensively. Pain-filled violet eyes glared at the newcomer flicking the blood away from his sword.

"Not bad," spoke a disturbingly familiar voice. "Taking out four opponents in your condition."

The tip of a cigarette glowed faintly in the darkness. He stepped forward, sheathing his long Nippon sword, and Aya's eyes widened with surprise.

It was him! The man from the nightclub!

"Hello again, kitten." He smirked at Aya's astonished expression.

Belatedly Aya remembered that this man had some dealings with Takeda, which made him an enemy as well. Which meant he had to be eliminated. Aya aligned his katana and charged. If he had been thinking more clearly, if he hadn't been so wrecked with pain, he would know straight away attacking the man in his current condition was courting death.

As it is, the man easily avoided his attack, one white-gloved hand stopping his thrust. The other hand clamped over his bleeding shoulder squeezing the bullet wound.

Pain exploded in a fiery burst.

The last thing Aya saw were smirking golden eyes before blackness claimed him.

* * *

The room finally chose to focus in his vision.

Aya laid unmoving, eyes fixed to the unfamiliar white ceiling above him. There was a dull throbbing in his right shoulder and he felt about as weak as a newborn baby. There seemed to be a thick fog in his mind; everything seemed so distant and unreal. It took a long time before the feeling that he was in a strange place finally seeped through to his drugged mind.

The urge to leave this place, wherever it was, and go home finally kicked in. Feebly, he tried to get up. Sharp pain exploded through his shoulder, setting his nerves on agonizing fire. Aya collapsed in a wrecking heap of agony, his panting loud and harsh in the silence of the room. Cold sweat broke out over his bare skin, causing him to shiver further in the cool air. The only good thing to come out of this maneuver was that the pain cleared a little of the fog in his mind.

"Finally. You're awake."

With great effort, Aya turned his head to the direction of the voice. His heart lurched when he saw the man reclining against the windowsill.

Slicked back raven hair and keen amber-gold eyes that never misses anything and gave nothing away. Neatly pressed shirt and tie, the crisp lines emphasizing the lean sinewy form. Gloved hands folded neatly in his crossed lap, a cigarette dangling from the corner of those thin lips.

The man looked every bit the same as Aya had remembered him from that night.

Aya's violet eyes darted about the room, taking in the traditional Japanese décor, the closed window and door. "Where am I?"

"My safe house. You've been here for almost three days." Saito dislodged the ash from his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. "It's not everyday I find someone like you interfering in my work."

Aya's eyes narrowed as he recalled the night of the mission. "Why did you save me?"

"Least I could do for someone who did my work for me."

"What do you mean? Aren't you Takeda's man?"

Saito snorted derisively, grounding out his cigarette in his ashtray. "I'm working undercover to destroy Takeda and his organization."

"You're a cop?"

"Iie." Saito got up and padded over to the futon. He sat down next to the wary redhead, watching with concealed amusement as Aya discreetly edged away from him.

"Then who the hell are you?"

"Good question. Who are you? First time I saw you, I almost mistook you for a whore. Next I find you wielding a sword in battle."

Aya glared at him. "You won't get anything out of me, old man."

In a quicksilver move, Saito grasped Aya's chin and pulled the younger man up close. "I've heard rumors of a second Japanese in WeiB -"

The violet gaze grew wide.

"- said to posses the same colorings as the Hitokiri Battousai - red hair and purple eyes."

"H-how did you know so much about WeiB?" Aya whispered.

Saito simply grinned wolfishly at him. He released the younger man, allowing Aya to fall back on the futon. "I'll make you a deal, kitten. Tell me everything you know about the latest incarnation of Kritiker and Persia and I will help you kill Takeda Kanryou."

Aya's chin rose up defiantly. "Why should I?"

"Because after your stunt three days ago, Takeda would increase his security and there's no way a three-men assassin team can get past his defenses from the outside. From the inside, however, it's a different story." Saito rose to his feet, looking down at the still figure on the futon. "Think carefully. I offer only once."

His calm neutral voice drifted back to Aya as he made his way to the door. "I am a patient man with many resources, kitten. One way or the other, I will find out."

Act Two Scene Three

The sound of blows drifted clearly from the opulent study room.

"Useless! Good-for-nothings!"

Takeda threw down his golf club and glared at the battered henchman curled at his feet. "Four days and you still can't find a trace of the bastards who destroyed my drug lab. Incompetent!"

"Takeda-sama."

"What is it?" He snapped at his butler.

"Fujito-san is here to see you, Takeda-sama."

Takeda cursed briefly. More than a week ago, he had struck a very lucrative deal with a very rich Kyoto client. He cannot afford to lose this very rich Kyoto client if he wants to establish a network there. This sabotage of his operations came at a really lousy timing.

"Get up," he coldly ordered his henchman. "Get out there and find me those responsible by the end of the week. Or I'll have your head."

"H-hai, Takeda-sama!"

Takeda put away his golf club and straightened his Western suit. "Show Fujito-san in."

By the time Fujito entered, Takeda was his oily pleasant self again. "Ah, Fujito-san, welcome to my mansion." He ushered the tall lean man into his study.

Today, Saito wore a dark blue Mao-style suit. His expression was non-existent. "I've heard about the incident at your lab, Takeda-san."

"It's just a minor setback, that's all." Takeda was quick to say.

"Still I am concerned."

"There's nothing to worry about, Fujito-san. The first exchange will still be made as scheduled."

Saito smiled, the broad curving of thin lips crinkling up his face and his eyes into slits, giving him a pleasant and harmless appearance. "I'm relieved to hear that, Takeda-san. I wouldn't want our first business deal to fall through because of some unfortunate incident."

"I share your sentiments, Fujito-san. Will you stay for lunch? My cook has prepared some really delicious steaks today."

"Sounds delicious."

Takeda smiled with pleasure. "After you, Fujito-san. We can discuss our lucrative future over lunch."

* * *

KaY was closed today, as it had been closed for the last three days.

Yohji sighed as he rested his chin up on the broom, eyeing the empty darkened shop with worried eyes. Three days since the fiasco of a mission. He had been the first to arrive home hours later, having easily given his pursuers the slip, to find Omi waiting for them. The poor kid had been nearly worried out of his mind, since this was the first mission WeiB had taken without him on board.

Yohji couldn't blame him. Being the oldest, he often felt a sense of responsibility for his younger teammates, despite of what his playboy image said about him.

Ken had arrived home nearly a day later. Apparently Siberian had a tougher time escaping. His clothes stunk suspiciously of the sewers and he was bleeding from his side. Omi immediately sprung into action, taking care of the wounded brunette, while Yohji scouted the area for signs of pursuers. Thankfully, the wound was just a bullet graze. After a day's rest, Ken was back on his feet.

There was still no sign of Aya yet. Kritiker agents had been searching for the missing redhead for two days already without success. Yohji would not admit it to anyone - Aya, least of all - not even under pain of torture but he was extremely worried. Granted Abyssinian was more than capable of taking care of himself, but even the best was still human. It had never taken him this long to rejoin them.

Putting the broom away, Yohji went upstairs to their apartment. Ken was in the living room, restlessly playing with his soccer ball, a darkness that hadn't been seen since those crazy days in Kyoto in his brown eyes.

"Any luck?" Yohji quietly asked him, eyes fixed on Omi talking on his cell phone.

Ken shook his head.

"He'll be fine," Yohji said with a confidence he didn't quite feel. "This is Aya we're talking about."

"What about Takeda?" Ken asked. "When do we take him out?"

"Not in the near future. The slime ball has beefed up his security. Even if WeiB has been at full strength, it would be impossible to infiltrate and assassinate him. At any rate, we can't do anything now until we have found Aya."

Omi padded over to them, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What's up, bishounen?"

"I just received some intriguing news from one of my agents. Yohji-kun, do you remember seeing a tall man with slicked back hair and light-colored eyes during your mission?"

"At the nightclub or the drug lab?"

"Both."

Yohji thought long and carefully. Finally he shook his head. "Sorry, no. Why do you ask?"

"It seems like Kritiker isn't the only one interested in Takeda."

* * *

"So this is Saito Hajime - last of the Mibu's Wolves." Omi put down the photograph of Saito entering Takeda's estate with a frown. "I can see how he got his reputation. How did you know what he looks like? All personal records of the Mibu's Wolves have been destroyed, including photos."

"I saw him once just before the First Power Play," the middle-aged Kritiker agent replied. "He was much younger back then, but even so I was struck by his chi."

"Chi?"

"The aura of a swordsman. Saito possessed an extremely focused and very fierce chi. He was most definitely a killer, one without conscience, pragmatic, cold and calculative. Aku soku zan - that is his only code." The agent shuddered. "He's not someone you can easily forget."

"Still he is only one man up against Takeda's organization." Omi eyed the photograph speculatively. "I'm giving you a new mission."

"Takatori-sama?"

"Find Saito Hajime and put a constant surveillance on him. I want to know everything about him - where he lives, how he operates, so forth. I want to know whether it's possible to persuade him to rejoin Kritiker."

"Hai!"

Author's post-script notes:

Things are definitely heating up between Saito and Aya. How? Well, I'm devoting the whole of the next act to them. I actually wanted to give Takeda a more beefy role but I decided to keep the main focus on their relationship instead. So what does Omi wants with Saito? Sub-plot there, which might prove to be a surprising conclusion.