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Define Arc	By : BlackberryPatch Category: +M to R > Pet Shop of Horrors Views: 8525 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Desecration
- 2-Despot
- 3-Damask
- 4-Definition
- 5-Damsel
- 6-Dearth
- 7-Dirigere
- 8-Disturbance
- 9-Decadence
- 10-Disease
- 11-Draht
- 12-Darkness
- 13-Dva
- 14-Daguerreotype
- 15-Draconigenae
- 16-Deification
- 17-Deviant
- 18-Doyoubi
- 1
- 2
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors and I am making no money from this or any other fan related work.

Warnings: horrific elements, yaoi/lemon, non-sexual NCS(?), language,
non-linear plot timeline.

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"Desecration"

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Leon had never cared for Sol Pyr, even before the business mogul became a teaching tool in police stations across the country for getting away with brutally raping his step-daughter and her friends because of improperly collected evidence that was not allowed to be presented in court. The man was slime- the highest degree of slime. Still, it was quite a surprise to Leon to meet him coming out of D's shop.

Even if the man, and he used the term loosely, had wanted a pet- for something other than dismemberment, or a strange sexual ritual that Leon didn't even want to know about- there were other places to get one. Leon hadn't even thought that Pyr lived in LA. But no, not watching where he was going- he knew the way pretty well by now- he practically ran over the man in the entrance to the shop. Standing there outside the door, mentally wiping off the filth he must have accumulated from merely being in the man's presence, and watching Pyr disappear down the street it suddenly hit Leon that this could be his chance.

He dashed into the shop, hoping he might catch the Count in the act of cleaning up after some dastardly deed or what not, only to be disappointed.

"He didn't even have tea?" Leon glanced dejectedly around the tidy shop.

"Hmm?" D looked up distractedly. "Oh, Hello Detective." He smiled slightly, but seemed unable to shake the cloud of gloom that hung around him.

"Sol Pyr." Leon said, his eyes narrowing. "He ran me over on his way out of here. What did he want?"

"Is that his name," D murmured. "He didn't say."

"What the fuck did he want D?" Leon grabbed the Count by the shoulder. Q-chan fluttered around his head and chittered nervously at him.

D's eyes were faraway. "Want? What do we all want," he whispered. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he smiled brightly at Leon. "Tea?"

-o-o-o-o-
It had been early in the afternoon when the door opened and a man walked into the pet shop. D looked up from where he was listening to a story Pon-chan was telling him and smiled blandly at his customer. The smile was automatic, and a good thing that it was or he would have forgotten to do so when he looked at his new customer.

He was short and in the process of rounding, and his balding brown hair was
of a indistinct shade and cut. His eyes were pale but muddy, devoid of any
definite color. He was well-dressed, but not excessively more so than many of D's patrons. In short, there was absolutely nothing physically remarkable about him. Nothing to account for the feeling of utter coldness that radiated off of him.

He smiled at D. "Ah, Hello there. I'm looking for Mr. Chan's restaurant." His voice was pleasant, soft but firm, and had a hint of good humor around all the edges. "I'm assuming I have the wrong address," he added as he looked around.

His casual glances around the shop were a little too pointed for someone who had thought that they were entering a restaurant, and the way his eyes came easily to rest on D's face was too pat for someone who had thought they were meeting Matsuri Chan, a very short, rotund man. This customer's entire being contradicted his story, yet D could divine nothing of his true purpose.

Puzzled, and slightly uneasy, he had given directions to Chan's restaurant, and the man had left. When Officer Orcot appeared on the heels of that departure, he gave D a name to go with the face: Sol Pyr. He�d heard of him, vaguely. But the circles that the infamous computer magnate traveled in were not ones that D cared to think about- it ruined his appetite.

So he didn't think anymore about the strange occurrence, though much later he wondered if his lack of concern might have been caused by the application of an outside influence. At any rate, later that day he was walking down the street on his way back from visiting a customer- an energetic elderly lady who was enjoying the company of the dog she had acquired. More importantly to D, the dog was also enjoying the company of the lady and had no complaints. It was early evening, but the sun had already forgotten the streets hidden between the tall buildings that crowded them. The streets themselves weren't very busy; the day crowd was at home, and the people of the night had yet to surface. D walked on, mostly lost in thought. Buster was enjoying his new master, but D thought he really should look in on Oliver next week. There hadn't been any complaints from the cat, but he was a feisty thing who rarely told others about his problems. D also mentally ran down a checklist of duties at the shop. He'd fed T-chan earlier, which should keep the totetsu from wandering the streets, looking for dinner. Pon-chan...

As if thinking the name had summoned her, he heard her voice. He paused and looked around at his surroundings. No, it couldn't possibly be Pon-chan; the pet shop was still several blocks away. But he heard it again from a nearby alley- the sound of an animal in pain. He set his jaw, narrowed his eyes, and stepped into the alley.

Perhaps if he had been thinking more, he would have paused. He might have listened to Q-chan, whose fluttering had picked up a decidedly anxious tone and whose chirps were cautious. But he'd never had problems before and he didn't expect them now.

The alley was dark, much darker than the open and lit street, and filled with objects that obscured D's vision. He thought he saw a man standing near a dumpster. He narrowed his eyes and went closer. The man had something in his hands, something that twisted in pain and was trying not to scream, and when he got closer D immediately recognized Pon-chan.

It was nice to know that he hadn't hallucinated her voice, but what was she doing here? His eyes narrowed in anger and he was about to speak to the man, but it was then that Pon-chan saw him.

"Count!" she cried, terror evident in her voice. "No! Run away! It's you they want..."

And D recognized the man as he turned to look at D and his pale, cold eyes evoked memories of earlier that day. Pyr smiled with the same cold humor, and D felt the first flash of uneasiness wash over him. Glancing behind him, D could see the mouth of the alley already filled with two burly silhouettes. Not that he was planning on going anywhere without Pon-chan. He was standing casually, but suddenly he darted toward Pyr and applied well manicured nails to the man's face and wrists.

Pyr released Pon-chan with an abrupt curse; the badger immediately dove into the welcoming and ever deepening darkness and disappeared. D's eyes flashed when a meaty hand reached out and grabbed him by the wrists, forestalling
further attack. Glancing behind him he was able to put faces with the two silhouettes he'd seen earlier; blockish, ugly faces, he thought as the pair of thugs seized him, but faces nonetheless. Pyr was glowering at him as he pressed a handkerchief to the scratches on his face, but there was a certain element of accomplishment in that glower.

The pair of thugs threw D against the wall, pinning him so effectively that he could barely move. He glared at Pyr, not especially worried and, now that Pon-chan was safe, not particularly interested in fighting. He locked eyes with Pyr and something in him, deeply hidden, recognized those eyes for more than what they appeared to be. Uneasiness washed over him again, but he refused to let it cloud his thinking.

Besides the pair of thugs and Pyr there were two others standing in the alley. A small, thin man affixed a silencer to his gun and moved back down to the mouth of the alley picking up a section of rebar on the way. The other, a waspish woman, whose lips were pulled back almost as tightly as her hair, equipped her firearm in the same manner and stood ready to cover her boss' back. D narrowed his eyes at them, wondering what they were doing, then suddenly threw them wide as he realized who the intended targets of those guns were. "No," he murmured, struggling. He could feel it, now that he was thinking about it- the restlessness of the animals around them.

Pyr grinned at him. "And here I have you," he said, his voice still pleasant even though the humorous edge to his voice had faded into a tight ecstasy that shone out of his eyes. "You wouldn't know what this means to me." He was pulling something out of his pocket. "Or how long I've waited to find you. Well," he admitted, showing that the thing he now held was a long knife, "not
you so much as what you are. If that makes sense." His grin widened, his expression
growing more intense. Seizing D's cheongsam by one side of the front piece he used the knife to slit it up the front all the way to the collar, baring D's chest.

D might have sighed and rolled his eyes, expressing a "not again" sentiment, if he hadn't been absolutely sure that that was not what Pyr was after. He could hear the rustling behind Pyr, and he knew the cavalry wasn't going to wait much longer. Testing his ability to move, D found the heavily muscled pair had matched their actions to their personalities and were as unmovable as granite. Each one pinned one of his arms to the wall and now they shifted slightly, spreading his legs and pinning them just as firmly. Pyr slit the pants D wore under his cheongsam up one leg and across to the other, exposing his groin. D was starting to get worried. But what really scared him was what happened next.

Again reaching his left hand into his pocket, Pyr pulled out a palm-sized, insect-like creature. It seemed nondescript, but one look at it and D's blood ran cold. With a sudden energy born of sheer terror he threw himself against those who held him. Surprised by the sudden onslaught, they almost released him, but a short "Hold him!" barked at them reaffirmed their grips. Pyr grinned again. "You recognize this?" The creature he held in his hand twisted at the sound of his voice, extending tendrils like feelers toward the man. Pyr's expression turned fatherly. Right then the first soft report of a silenced gun sounded from behind him. Pyr barely glanced back, but D's jaw clenched as the stray dog's death pierced through his own immediate fear.

Though it might resemble an insect, D knew that the thing perched on Pyr's hand was no animal. He could not have said how he knew, but some part of him- the same, deep part that had recognized the look in Pyr's eyes- recognized this thing. It was a creation of man; a mechanical reproduction of nature. A machine with only one purpose in existing- to destroy life. And he knew what Pyr was going to do with it. He turned and tried to bite the hand that pinned his right arm; if he could get a hand free...

"Hold him still," Pyr barked again. "Give him a chance and he'll kill himself. And that won't do any of us any good, will it Count?" The title was a mockery in his mouth. He stepped forward again and pressed the flat of the knife he held in his right hand against D's neck teasingly. He ran the flat of the blade down the length of D's chest. Turning the knife, he made a shallow cut across D's lower abdomen. D hissed softly; he tried to thrust himself more fully on the blade- if death was the only way out of this he would welcome it. Anything to prevent what was about to happen, what was happening around him as the soft reports sounded twice again behind Pyr, followed by the thuds of bodies falling.

Pyr held the knife up to the thing in his left hand. The thing, flicking tentacles here and there, seemed to taste it and then went wild. Feelers whipped every which way as the thing tried to find the source of the blood it had just tasted. Pyr held it out toward D, who shook his head vehemently and struggled uselessly against the two thugs who held him. Roughly six hundred pounds pinned him against the wall; he knew he couldn't budge them. But, by all that was holy, he was not going to let this happen...

The thing flicked tentacles against D's skin, tasting the blood that ran down his abdomen. Having found what it sought, it slipped from Pyr's hand and skittered over D's skin. D shuddered violently at its touch.

Pyr chuckled. "Yes fight it. It won't do any good; not now. I will have you, and through my control of you, I will have influence over all life on this world." He ran a finger down D's face and smiled. "What you influence to create, I will destroy. With the possibilities opened by technology and machines, there is no more need for animals and all the room they take up." He gripped D's chin, forcing the man to look at him; D's eyes were glazed and shudders ran the length of his body almost continuously. "Machines will replace all of your needless life. Eventually, even the humans too will be replaced." He ran a finger over D's lips. "I'm sure you'll appreciate that." Suddenly, he frowned. "Oh, but you won't be around to see it. Too bad." His grin returned, but he noticed then that his creature was having some difficulty finding what it was looking for. "Oh, be a sport Count. Relax." He trailed a hand down over D's abdomen to his groin and began fondling him. "Relax. Let it in."

D convulsed again. All his muscles were clenched tightly against the creature, the thing, which had crawled its way between his legs and under his body to where it was now pressing against the hole there, trying to gain entrance. He quivered, trying to ignore Pyr's hand as it touched him, and holding himself tensed he felt tendrils slipping inside of him. He moaned in hopelessness, and Pyr actually cackled. "I would say again just give in, but watching you fight the inevitable is actually amusing. So do keep it up." He stroked fingers slowly across D's balls and up over his cock, his grin growing as D's convulsing started pacing his strokes. "There you go. Move with me."

Shaking his head violently, D suddenly threw it back and screamed.

-o-o-o-o-
Wandering randomly around Chinatown in the dark was not something that Leon usually did. Really. But for some reason, he felt something calling him to be here today. So he took a detour on his way to the shop to see the Count and Chris. That was before Q-chan flew right into him with the force of a fighter jet.

He staggered, and his hands automatically came up to cup around the strange creature. "Q-chan?" he affirmed, unnecessarily. Like there were two horned, flying rabbits in LA... Or in the world for that matter.

Having caught his breath, Q-chan flapped back up into the air and squeaked a stream of squeaks at Leon.

Leon frowned. "Yeah, I didn't catch any of that." Q-chan made a noise that very much resembled a growl of frustration and, snatching at Leon's sleeve, tried to pull the detective in one direction. "Okay, I get it. I'll follow you. Lead on." And while he felt unforgivably stupid following a flying rabbit, Leon did so.

It wasn't far, three blocks, before Q-chan stopped and hovered indecisively outside an alley. Leon pulled his gun, though he wasn't sure why, and moved close to the mouth of the alley. "What is it?" he asked, once again feeling slightly stupid. Q-chan flew against him, trying to prevent him from entering the alleyway. "What?" Leon frowned. "You brought me here. So, what the fuck's going down?" Something squeaked near his foot.

"Pon-chan?" Leon leaned down and held out a hand to the badger. "What are you doing out here?"

Someone in the alley screamed- a hopeless, heart-rending sound.

Leon leapt to his feet, and this time when Q-chan pulled at him he nodded impatiently. "Yeah, I get it already! Be cautious." Q-chan squeaked, then flew up and disappeared.

Pressed against one wall of the alley, his gun at the ready, Leon worked his way into the darkness. He didn't have to go far. He crouched behind a trash can and watched a man standing in the middle of the alley beat back a small group of dogs that ranged in front of him, occasionally shooting one with a gun he held, equipped with a silencer. Bodies lay around him, but the animals did not look like they planned to give up anytime soon. Indeed, they seemed to have reinforcements coming, if the rustling in the debris around Leon was any indication. Looking down he caught sight of a rat; the rodent paused and shook whiskers at him.

Leon swore under his breath. He raised his gun over the trash can and took aim at the man standing in the alley. The shot took him in the shoulder, the sound of it echoing down the alley. The man went down without a sound, suddenly swarmed by a mass of angry canines. Leon stood, as if in a dream, and stepped out into the alley. Most of the dogs barely glanced at him, but a few came to him and followed him as he made his way down the center. The element of surprise was lost, and Leon made sure to hug the wall as he came around the corner.

He wasn't really all that surprised to see Sol Pyr standing there, in the middle of the alley, a woman standing behind him. He could see D, pinned against the wall by a hulking brute of a man, while another thug moved around Pyr and came toward him. He could see D was shaking and a moan slipped past the Count's clenched lips. There wasn't any time. Leon didn't stop to think that he was only one man up against four. Maybe he subconsciously took into account the army that crouched, growling, around his knees. Or more likely he never really thought about odds.

He whipped around the corner and shot the first hulk in the knee. The man went down with a German Shepherd snarling at his throat. The wasp woman was distracted by rats climbing her legs; she shrieked and almost shot her own foot off in her fear. Leon took aim at Pyr and shot the man in the hip. Pyr fell to the ground, a dark grin still on his face. None of the animals touched him. Leon turned to the second hulk, and the Count, only to find the hulk taken care of. He hurried to D's side.

D was shaking uncontrollably. "Hey, Count?" Leon touched his shoulder worriedly. D grabbed Leon's hand and pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the detective. His clothes were a mess and he was still shaking; Leon took off his jacket and threw it around D's shoulders giving him a concerned look. "Are you alright? Do you need a hospital or something?"

Fingers clutched convulsively at his sleeve as D practically collapsed against him. "No," he whispered, though Leon wasn�t sure which question that was answering. D pointed a trembling finger toward Pyr, where the other man half knelt, fingers pressed against his bleeding hip. "Kill him." D�s voice was ragged, and so soft, his face almost completely hidden against Leon�s chest, but the venom in that whisper was unmistakable.

Pyr chuckled. "Come now Count. Do you really think the good Detective would do something like that? Shooting people is one thing. Killing in cold blood is something else. And rather against the law at that." D's fingers tightened again, digging into Leon's arm.

He wasn't sure why he did it. When it came down to it, he would rather listen to D than Pyr. But it was him that did it, not anyone influencing him or anything like that.

Raising his arm he shot Sol Pyr three times in the forehead.

-o-o-o-o-

T-chan was not happy.

Usually when a totetsu was not happy, the world trembled. Okay, so that was only in
his head, T-chan was quite seriously peeved, and what made it worse was the only person around was Chris. He just couldn't bring himself to eat Chris. But dammit if he didn't really feel like eating someone...

Pon-chan was gone. A strange little man had come in earlier and abducted her.
Of course, that wasn't until T-chan got a nice bite of his ass. But T-chan hadn't counted on the man's strength, and when the man had thrown him against the wall the force of it had knocked him out for a bit. When he woke up, the man and Pon-chan were nowhere to be found. Their scent trail disappeared just outside of the door to the pet shop.

And that really pissed T-chan off. Not just that there wasn't anything he could do about Pon-chan, at least not until the Count got back, but mostly that whoever this guy was he'd had the gall to pick a fight with a totetsu and then run off like a rabbit. Angry he might be, but T-chan wasn't stupid. He couldn�t find someone he couldn't smell,
so he waited for the Count.

Only problem was, the Count didn't come back from his afternoon appointment. That really improved T-chan's mood. He just knew that somewhere, something was going down. Something where people were dying. Wastefully, since he wasn't there to appreciate them. Night had fallen and pissed had turned into incensed.

So it was with mixed feelings that he watched the small procession coming toward the pet shop. Pon-chan was cradled in the Count's arms, safe and sound. And the Count... T-chan wasn't sure what had happened but it must have been something fun. By T-chan's standards anyway. And while it was nice to know everyone had survived, relatively intact, he'd still missed out.

The Count was himself cradled in the arms of the detective. His head leaned wearily against Leon's shoulder and his hands stroked Pon-chan without any conscious thought. T-chan had the door propped open; he glared evilly at the detective, but decided that his urge to bite someone could wait until he'd found out what had happened.

Leon brought the Count in and set him down on the lounge. He ducked into the kitchen for a minute and T-chan touched the Count's hand. D turned and smiled at him tiredly. "Pon-chan will show you," he said softly. "And tell you. Go."

T-chan nodded. He followed Pon-chan out, pausing once to look back.

Leon had returned with a glass of water. "I don't know how to make tea," he said, holding out the glass to the Count.

D smiled. "This will do. For now."

T-chan narrowed his eyes at Leon, then snorted and turned to follow Pon-chan. "What happened?" he asked her.

"Remember I told you about Pyr?" she said, pausing outside the door to gain her bearings. A Chihuahua on the corner yipped at her, "Over here!"

"Tanis Pyr?" T-chan's eyebrows furrowed. "The creepy old lady? From, what, 50 years ago?"

"Sort of. Sol Pyr. The man who was in here earlier."

"So that was his name." He moved surefooted in the darkness, slipping after Pon-chan. Pon-chan had told him the story, as it had been passed to her, of the Enemy. "So, Pyr tried again." T-chan gritted his teeth. He would have loved to have been in on that...

Pon-chan stopped. T-chan blinked, glancing at his surroundings. Dogs lay about, cracking bones. Ravens shot him guarded looks from where they spread their wings over their supper. Rats rustled through the trash, carrying meat to their young. In six hours or so, there would be no evidence of what had happened here.

Pon-chan turned to T-chan, smiling. "He did. Try being the operative word. And he won't be trying again. This time we actually managed to stop him cold. And since we knew you would be feeling neglected, having missed out..." She moved to the side slightly. Behind her, the body of Sol Pyr lay untouched in the middle of the alley.

T-chan grinned. "I think I love you, rabbit face."

Pon-chan rolled her eyes at him. Metal clinked in her hand; one final rat brought her the last of the bullets that Leon had used. She nodded at the rodent and turned to go. T-chan turned to his dinner, and, with a satisfied grin, dug in.

-o-o-o-o-

The echo of those three rapid shots died away down the alley before D looked up and saw the body of Pyr lying there- blood pooling under his head, his eyes open wide and vacant, a slightly surprised look on his face. D's fingers were clenched in Leon's sleeve and he was leaning heavily on the detective; the death of its creator mattered little to the thing. It still set about its work with a hearty gusto.

D groaned and slid to the ground. It was determined; fighting it was getting harder.

"What is it?" Leon's voice in his ear. "D, what's wrong?"

He wasn�t sure he could even talk at this point. But Pon-chan crept from the darkness and ran soft fingers over his leg and across his ass, pushing the fabric of his clothing away to show Leon the silvery, insect-like object trying desperately to worm its way inside the Count's body.

"Fuck," was Leon's succinct assessment. D groaned again; he buried his face against the soft, warm body of an obliging collie bitch and twisted his fingers desperately in her long fur as others crowded around him. He didn't want to look at Leon; he was embarrassed, not for the obvious reasons but rather because he knew Leon was going to want some sort of an explanation for all of this- probably before he helped D- and for the life of him, D could not think of a story to tell.

He was surprised to feel Leon's hands, soft against his skin, feel their way toward the creature. He could sense when Leon grabbed it tightly in his fingers; the thing started to struggle more fiercely to get inside of him. He tensed automatically, but Leon touched his shoulder soothingly. "Relax for a minute," he said, his voice preoccupied as he focused his attention on the thing.

The word might have been the same, but the tone, the context, the voice that spoke it, were all immeasurably different. D didn't have to think about it; he relaxed his protesting muscles.

The thing figured it had finally won. It released the hold it had and reared back, preparing to dive in; in that moment, when it wasn't expecting an attack, Leon seized it, pulled it away from the Count, and, tossing it on the ground, crushed it firmly under his heel.

D breathed in deeply, sagging against Leon. He was bone-weary; soul weary. Lying here, without moving, was all he wanted; lying here without explanations, without pretenses.

Leon moved first. D sighed, and prepared to stand. Leon's hand on his arm stopped him. Before D could think about it, Leon lifted him in his arms and started carrying him down the alley toward the shop. He reached out a hand and pushed against Leon in protest, but he was so tired... He sighed, letting himself relax against Leon's chest. Pon-chan had jumped in his lap, and she made an encouraging noise as he closed his eyes. "Sleep, Count," she whispered. "I'm sorry," she added, rubbing against his hand softly.

He stroked her absentmindedly. "Not your fault," he murmured.

"What?" asked Leon. "Oh," he said, when he realized the Count was talking to the animals again, and rolled his eyes. D smiled; confusing Leon was so much fun. But thinking about the detective made him think about what had just happened.

They reached the pet shop quickly; T-chan was at the door waiting for them, his customary glower a shade darker today. Leon set D down on the chaise lounge in the main room and ducked into the kitchen for something to drink. "Pon-chan," the Count whispered, but she nodded and said, "I know." And when T-chan touched his hand questioningly, he said "Go with Pon-chan." T-chan nodded, and the pair slipped out.

Leon returned with a glass of water which he pressed awkwardly into the Count's hands. "I don't know how to make tea," he said, his voice a combination of defensiveness and concern.

D smiled. "This will do." He drank the water, feeling cleaner just from its existence. "For now."

Leon took the empty glass from him, set it on a table, knelt beside the lounge where D sat, and stared at him intently. D sighed. He knew what Leon wanted to know, what the detective wasn't saying, but what he didn't know was whether Leon wanted to really be a part of what happened next.

"Look Count," Leon surprised him again by speaking up. "I don't know what just went down out there, but I know what it looked like to me, and I know how to deal with that." His eyes were piercing. "What I don't know is whether you're like other people, or if you're weird in this, too. So tell me what you want, what you need, and I'll help you."

D stared at him, his eyes open wide in surprise. Hesitantly he reached out and ran a finger down the side of Leon's face. "Will you?" he asked, thinking of Sol Pyr, hemorrhaging from the forehead. Leon nodded, leaning into that finger, and looked up at the Count.

D nodded as well. "All right." He draped his arms over Leon's shoulders and leaned against the man as he stood again with D in his arms. The Count directed him vaguely toward the bathroom, but he needn't have bothered; a stream of small, furry backs lead the way. Leon kicked off his shoes, the better to keep from stepping on anyone, and D smiled. That was what he needed right now- something to restore his faith in humankind. That and copious amounts of hot water.

They entered the bathroom and D shoved out of Leon's arms to stumble over to the shower and turn the water on full heat, full blast. It was cold at first, but soon it beat in a cleansing fire against his skin. He shed the remains of his clothing and stood under the pelting water with his eyes closed. A touch on his arm brought him back to the present; he opened his eyes and looked at Leon. The detective had also removed most of his clothing; he held out disinfecting soap to the Count who took it gratefully and began rubbing it vigorously over his body. Tentatively, Leon took more of the soap in his hands and started spreading it over D's shoulders. When D didn't object, he began rubbing, massaging the stressed muscles. D sighed softly, leaning in to the contact.

He felt Leon's hands massage his shoulders and move down his back, working the tension out. Leon paused; his hands at the small of D's back. But D reached his hands back and, covering Leon's with his own, slid them down over his ass. He leaned into those hands; where they touched him he could feel them washing away stain of Pyr and his creature. Leon seemed to know this, and as D leaned his head back against Leon's chest, Leon shifted his hands slightly. One slipped fingers between the cheeks of D's ass and brushed against his entrance. The other traced its fingers over D's hip around to the front and wrapped itself around his cock.

A hissing sigh, almost inaudible over the water of the shower, escaped D's lips, and he arched into Leon's touch, his own hands reaching back and stroking against Leon's thighs. Leon looked down at the Count through slitted eyes as he stroked over his cock with one hand and brought his other up to brush it over D's chest. His second hand paused as it came up over D's stomach; the shallow cut Pyr had given him had long
since stopped bleeding. However, as Leon touched it D shuddered and, twisting in Leon's arms, pressed his face against Leon's chest.
Leon held him for a long moment, under the heat of the rushing water. Then, slowly sliding his hands up D's sides in a counter movement, he knelt in front of the other man. D buried his fingers in Leon's hair and watched the detective. Leon's face was level with D's stomach and he reached out his tongue to lick the Count's skin. He felt the fingers in his hair tighten. Lowering his mouth slightly, he let his tongue travel the length of the cut on D's stomach. D shuddered and gasped; Leon smiled against his skin and went over the cut again with small licks, making sure to
trace the entire length of it. He leaned his head back and looked up at D. D met his eyes; he traced a finger over Leon's face. Leon's eyes drifted shut and he turned into the touch; when D's finger came near his mouth he took it between his teeth. Slowly- always slowly, asking permission, gauging what was allowed, what was wanted- Leon let the finger slide out of his mouth, then took it back in.

D shuddered. He wanted... He pulled his finger out of Leon's mouth and stared down at the man. He wanted... but he wasn't going to force it. If Leon could read it in his eyes... And Leon lowered his head and took D's cock into his mouth. D's eyes slid shut. Leon was warm,
like the water that fell against him, and both the water and the detective washed over him in cleansing waves.

Leon let the flesh slip from his mouth and turned his tongue's attention to the balls just below it, making sure to touch every inch of skin with his tongue. He wasn't sure entirely what was going on, but he got that it was a ritual of cleansing, and that here Pyr's touch was such that not just another hand could wash it away. It would take something more intimate to match what was meant to violate, to overpower it. D took a step backwards; stumbling for a moment, he found the wall of the shower and leaned back against it, letting the wall take his weight. Leon licked his way down one thigh, then switched over the other one and worked his way back up until he once again found his lips wrapped around D's cock. He glanced up through his eyelashes at the Count, as his tongue teased the tip of it.

Leaning heavily back against the wall, D's eyes were half closed in bliss. He felt Leon pause. He wanted... but he couldn't force it. His fingers moved through Leon's hair, massaging his scalp, in a sort of permission granting, but he couldn't
demand... He felt Leon start to move again, his tongue teasing as he let the flesh slid out of his mouth, and then back in again. D shivered again, his legs almost going out form under him at the sensation. Leon's hands came up, supporting D as Leon played with his cock a little more, then let the hardening flesh slide from his mouth again. D whimpered; opening his eyes he searched Leon's face for a reason. Leon simply smiled at him. He started to stand up, pausing halfway to kiss D's stomach again, across the cut, then his lips met D's, his fingers slid down the cleft of D's ass, parting it, and D knew what Leon was doing. That figured out, he participated
with his entire being.

D threw his arms around Leon's neck, kissing him fully, lips, tongues and teeth participating. He felt Leon
slip a finger inside of him, and none of the revulsion that he'd felt earlier that evening
even touched him now. No- this intrusion was welcome. He spread his legs
slightly, and at the insertion of a second finger he lifted his legs and wrapped them around Leon's waist.
The detective stroked his free hand over the pale skin of one leg while he
sought D's lips with his own. D moaned softly into the kiss, his fingers
stroking though Leon's wet hair as he gave in and tried to pull the man closer
to him. His back was still pressed to the wall of the shower, his hands
drifting lower to grip Leon's shoulders as a third finger found its way inside
of him. He closed his eyes as he tried to relax and push away the discomfort;
it had been so long he'd forgotten the feeling. His fingernails drew bloody scratches across Leon's shoulders
as the sudden pressure of something larger than Leon's fingers pressed against
him. He buried his face in Leon's neck as his breath came in shallow gasps. Suddenly it was too hot, suffocating, he was burning form the inside...

"Shhhh..." Leon whispered in his ear. "Shhh, stay with me." And Leon was
inside of him, the warmth and hardness of his manhood pressing deliciously
against D, and Leon started
rocking, moving against him, sliding in and out of him, his hand falling between them to again stroke D's
cock. D inhaled deeply, his head arching back, slamming against the tiled wall, as his spine tried to break out of his skin; he wanted to scream in ecstasy
but his breath came out soundlessly in the steam-filled air. His fingernails dug deeper into Leon's back, and he could hear Leon's
soft moan of pleasure over the sound of the falling water. Leon moved
against him again, their bodies falling easily into a rhythm, as if they had
performed this act innumerable times before. Leon's body felt familiar
under his fingers but at the same time amazingly new and... refreshing.

D felt a warmth growing inside of him, pooling in his stomach, tightening
through all his muscles. Leon's fingers curled more tightly around D's
cock as his thrusting became more urgent, and D felt the hot air around them
grow thick with anticipation. He bent his head forward, leaning against
his arm wrapped around Leon's shoulders, and his lips brushed against the warm,
wet skin of the man's neck. He felt Leon shiver, and it was too much; D
leaned back, his head against the cool tiled wall, but it was too late.
The feeling in his stomach settled lower and, with a cry that was both joyous
and desperate, he came; his muscles tensing, he gripped Leon inside of him, holding him in;
distantly, he felt Leon's soft cry of rapture against his throat and he felt Leon's
final hard thrust, and the man coming inside of him. After that, Leon's legs wouldn't hold his weight, much less D's as well, and Leon slowly collapsed to the floor of the shower, carrying D with him.

D focused on breathing. Yes, breathing was good... He blinked and looked up, and realized that Leon was kneeling over him, blocking the water from falling on him. And he realized the water was far more tepid than when they'd started. He touched a hand to Leon's cheek, and the detective seemed to know his thoughts. Hauling himself to his feet, he pulled D with him. They rinsed off quickly in the cooling water, and D reached over to turn the shower off. They stood there for a long minute, Leon still wrapped around D, D breathing in the cleanness of water.

They moved to the bedroom. Well, Leon moved. The heat of the shower, and their... activities, had sapped all of the remaining strength out of D's muscles. He didn't think he could walk; Leon wrapped him in a large towel and carried him to the bed.

It was already occupied. Lambent eyes watched D worriedly, tails wagged to see he was all right and a soft purr became a ragged chorus as more joined in. "Fuck that," Leon growled, and D laughed openly. It sounded good, and it felt good to do it. Leon growled something else, but laid D down on the bed amid his devotees. The Count buried his fingers in their fur and hid his face against their bodies, drawing into himself everything that was them- their scent, their aliveness. He intuited more than actually saw or felt Leon leaving the room.

"No," he called, looking over at the detective. "Stay," he asked. Leon nodded. He came over to the bed, the animals shifting and making room for him, and lay down beside D. D lay on his side, furry bodies pressed against his chest, and scooted back so that Leon was pressed up against his back. He heard Leon chuckle and then reach an arm around his waist. D sighed. And slept.

Morning was not far away, but their waking was. D didn't remember when it had been, but Pon-chan had returned
at some point and wriggled herself up against him, displacing several others. When he woke up he looked at her.

"All taken care of," she chirped brightly, smiling. He smiled back at her. He felt strangely peaceful this morning. He knew something horrible had happened last night, but he couldn't seem to remember exactly what it was. Oh, he could if he thought about it hard enough, but he rather thought he wouldn't do that just yet. He turned slightly and looked over his shoulder.

Leon was breathing on his neck. It was... comforting. Alive. Human. He touched the detective's face; Leon woke immediately. D smiled at him, but one eyebrow was raised questioningly. How much of last night did Leon remember? He blinked at D a few times, but seemed to accept his surroundings without further question.

"Breakfast," he growled, his voice rough, and then leveled an eye at the Count. "No sugar."

D pouted. "Not even in your coffee?" he asked in dismay.

"No. Black."

Still pouting, D moved to get out of the bed. However, moving, he found, was not going to be fun today. He tried to suppress a groan as his body screamed at him in protest.

"D?" Leon was at his elbow in an instant.

"Just a little stiff Detective," he said, waving off the other man's concern.

Leon frowned at him. "You stay here." He crawled out of the bed himself and went into the bathroom to find his pants. "I'll make breakfast," he said, coming back.

D eyed him dubiously. The man didn't even know how to make tea...

"Hey," Leon narrowed his eyes. "I can make breakfast." Then he frowned. "Uh, what do you eat for breakfast?"

D couldn�t suppress his smile, which soon grew into a laugh that echoed off the walls of the room. Wiping tears from his eyes, he saw Leon standing there, indignant hands on hips, and dissolved into laughter again.

-o-o-o-o-
What a night. That was pretty much the extent of Leon's thinking as he measured out the ingredients for the tea with Pon-chan's help.

Yes, he was making tea with a badger. What of it? he growled at his subconscious, and added more lemon as she indicated. He had, rather successfully, suspended his belief system since the previous night and his first encounter with a group of stray dogs who acted like disciplined army commandoes. He accepted. Because it helped D, and "serve and protect" was his motto.

Okay, so it wasn't his so much as it was his job's, but he took it seriously. And as much as he was looking forward to pinning all manner of horrible crimes on the Count, today he wasn't a murder suspect. Today he was just a victim, another one of the ones Leon had to protect.

He sliced some melon, and his thoughts, not currently occupied, focused on the one thing about last night he hadn't explained to himself fully. Well, the one thing he felt needed explaining, mostly because he was going to have to explain it to his boss at some point if only to account for the bullets he'd used.

Sol Pyr.

He was dead. Leon had shot him. There were Pyr's lackeys, too. Leon may not have killed them himself, but he had done it as sure as having put his gun to their brains and pulling the trigger himself. The strangest thing was he felt no remorse. Sure, he'd rather not have killed them, but... that he had, didn't seem like a bad thing. D had told him to do it. But it was more than that. D had been... scared of Pyr. He couldn't think of the last time- okay, ever- that he'd seen Count D scared. That convinced him, more than anything else, that Pyr was bad news.

And that was it- why he'd done it. Because he knew, in a part of him he couldn't explain, that gut feeling that he knew wasn't wrong, that Sol Pyr was trying to do more than molest D. That Sol Pyr was out for blood, and whose blood it was didn't matter so long as there was a lot of it.

Pon-chan chirped at him pointedly. Leon glanced up at her. She scowled at him. He glanced down and realized he'd been chopping air for the past couple moments. "Oh. Thanks." She squeaked, and he fed her a piece of the melon. He took some of the fruit and some tea and placed them on a tray. He added toast and some juice and... He turned and fixed a glare on D, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Detective," he said mildly, "I live here. Thankfully you seem to have not burned the building to the ground."

"I think you would have noticed something like that from the bedroom. Anyway, Pon-chan's helping me. What�s to worry about?"

D smiled softly, secretly. "Indeed. What is?"

Leon snorted at him. "Sit down. I'll bring it to you." D nodded and went into the other room to sit by the table. Leon brought the tray and placed it in front of D, but suddenly something on the table caught his attention.

It was his gun. He frowned. He thought he'd... he reached out and picked it up.

"Oh," D said quietly. "It seems Pon-chan forgot to put it back." He shot a glance at the badger, who looked inscrutable.

"Wha..." Leon started, but he opened the chamber and found it full, and he couldn't talk anymore right then.

No. He'd shot six times; there should be six bullets missing from the gun. It shouldn't be full. He glared at the Count. What the fuck? Even when he'd hallucinated the saber-tooth tiger, the bullets had existed. They'd been used. He'd had to write the report. But, this time� "D, what..."

"As far as anyone who wasn't there is concerned," D's voice was low and he was staring into his tea as if it held the secrets of the universe, "what happened last night and in that alley... didn't happen."

"But..." Leon tried to grasp that. "The bodies?" D looked at him. Leon swallowed. "No, I guess not... Alright." He took a deep breath. "Alright." D was watching him, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what, but... "Alright, so it didn't happen. I guess it's easier that way." He stood from the chair where he'd sunk out of surprise after picking up the gun, and turned to go get the rest of his clothes, still strewn over the bathroom.

"Leon."

D's voice was so soft Leon wasn't sure he'd heard it. But he stopped. He turned his head back toward the Count.

"I said for those who weren't there." Was it just Leon, or did D look... sad? "But you may choose to believe what you wish."

Leon stood there. It was his decision. Like another decision he'd had to make not so long ago, there were pros and cons, and opinions on both sides, but in the end it was him that chose.

He came back to the table and sat down. D looked at him, a smile hidden behind his teacup. "Tea?"

"Yeah, whatever. We better have real food for lunch."

"Why detective, I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

-o-O-o-
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Define Arc

- "Desecration" -

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"Desecration"

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