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Define Arc	By : BlackberryPatch Category: +M to R > Pet Shop of Horrors Views: 8526 -:- 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
- 12
- 13
- 14
Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors and I am making no money from this or any other fan related work.

Warnings: Rated for a scene which has been described with the term "ride
'em cowboy." ;b Also, be prepared for the beginning of the
end of any remaining canon.

Note: This story actually has three titles with five different
meanings: deva is Sanskrit for "god" but also means "a maleficent
supernatural being"; diva is Italian for "goddess," and can also
be "the principal female performer in an opera or concert organization";
and finally dva is Sanskrit for "two."

--

In all ways-

for ZeoViolet,

because she wanted it very much.

=]

-------------------------

-

"D|va"

-

Count D leaned back in the antique Victorian chair, his
elbow resting on the curving wooden arm of it, one leg crossed easily over the
other as he tapped an elegant, folded fan against his thigh with slight
impatience. "Have you made your choice?"

Denizens of the shop swarmed around his current customer,
their eyes bright. "It... is a difficult choice." A sigh slipped
from between tight lips. "They are all so... perfect." Several
minutes passed, but finally a hand was extended possessively toward a particular creature.
"I think... she will be it."

"Oh?" D rose from his seat; the soft sound of wings echoed
through the shop as Q-chan flew to perch lightly on his shoulder, both of them peering at the
customer's choice.

"Yes." This confirmation was steadier, as if
reaffirming the choice made it truer.

The chosen animal extended her head forward to taste the
scent of her new owner, her eyes glinting coyly up from under half-lowered lids.
But she also looked behind her, at her mate who crouched close and made a small
sound of sorrow.

"It would be a shame to separate them." D's voice
was smooth as he moved around to stroke the unhappy creature.

"Oh?" There was a moment of doubt, and
then a flash of anger as hands curled possessively around the new acquisition.
"I suppose they'll get over it. She is all I want. She is what
I will have." The animal in
question made a soft sound; her mate moved restlessly.

His eyes flashed and D smiled, the expression smooth and
easily pulled over his face, but there was a coldness in it that touched
something much deeper. "Very well. If you will step this way and
please sign the contract. I must remind you that if the instructions
enclosed here are not followed to the letter this shop cannot be held
accountable for anything that should happen." He spoke the words
easily, but something made him offer one last warning as the creature's mate
growled softly at his feet. "What has been joined in such a bond...
To sever that bond is an endeavor not to be undertaken lightly." His smile
darkened, revealing a truer emotion. "If at all."

-o-o-o-o-

The soft strains of the music drifted up through the vast,
open hall and the small group of people listening shivered at the sheer emotion
in the sound. The slender young woman sitting apart from the orchestra on
the stage drew her bow across the strings of her cello one last time, sending
out one last hauntingly melancholy note, then looked up from where she'd been
concentrating
on her playing to blink distractedly at the director. He lowered his
baton, the small orchestra playing background to the soloist lowering their
instruments from the ready positions they'd been held in as they listened to that last note drift through the air.
The director nodded to the
cellist, a deep, solemn gesture. She grinned, her own expression childish
and free, and stepped away from her instrument to bow to the imaginarily filled
auditorium. The sound of a single pair of hands echoed through the
emptiness; a young man ran up onto the stage clapping, going to the woman and
taking her in his arms as they spoke quietly.
The pair were obviously related, their features similar and such an unusual
blending of different qualities that it would take more than chance to replicate
them. The young man's words were encouraging- the cellist smiled brightly. Taking his sister by the hand, the young man led her to the edge of
the stage where she placed her instrument in its carrying case.

Leon leaned against a wall at the back of the auditorium.
He blinked as the music stopped and he pulled his mind from where it wandered in
far away places. Jill, beside him, nudged him to make sure he was awake,
shooting him a look under the guise of brushing her hair behind her ear.
She stepped forward to meet the small group coming toward them. Leon
sighed as he pushed off from the wall and stood on his feet, trying to
surreptitiously crack the stiffness out of his neck. Danielle, Jill's
roommate, had set this meeting up and Leon was already bored. Danielle
worked at the city arts center and had met the young musical genius Devika
Chetan when she'd come to town to perform. Through the course of their
quick friendship, Devika had let it slip that an overzealous stalker was trying to kill her and
Danielle had volunteered the services of her roommate the cop. Pending
Jill's approval of course, but Jill was fascinated by the story Danielle had
told her; and lately Jill was constantly searching for something, anything, to
occupy her mind and fill every last hour of her day. Dealing with a
distraught
prima donna was not what Leon wanted to be doing today, though he had
to admit as he went to meet Devika that she was nothing like what he'd pictured.

"Detectives Fresney and Orcot," Danielle
introduced as she and the Chetans approached Jill and
Leon. Devika nodded eagerly to them; Leon's eyes were drawn to
the cello case

she'd brought with her as if afraid to leave it behind- it was taller
than the slight woman and, he would bet, heavier too.

"Isha Chetan." Her brother bowed over Jill's hand
and shook Leon's heartily. "Thank you for considering my sister's
troubles worth your time. I'm sure you must be busy as officers of justice in a
city of this size."

Jill smiled warmly at him. "Your sister's troubles
are as important to us as those of any of the people in our city; thank you for seeking
our help to rid her of this threat. It's our pleasure to assist you as
much as we can."

Leon snorted, softly. Jill acted as if stalkers were
in their normal jurisdiction and not as if this was a rather large favor for a
friend of a friend. Leon eyed the brother; he was almost as small as his sister, not just short but
slight as well. He wasn't quite as short as D... Leon pulled his
mind away from that train of thought viciously, though it bucked and fought him
like a wild stallion. "So what's the problem?" he said bluntly, ready to
get this over with.

Four pairs of eyes blinked at him. "Please,"
the young cellist said, "if you would
come with us to the office we can be seated comfortably there while I explain." Devika's
voice was as soft and demure as the rest of her, and Leon found himself nodding
easily though he would rather have just had everything out here in the
auditorium.

Danielle, after shooting Leon a look that
he assumed meant "behave," lead the way to the auditorium's main office.
She shut the door behind the group, but almost immediately someone knocked on
it. Leon's eyes narrowed. There had been no one in the hall
when they'd entered the room; he'd looked.

Danielle opened the door to reveal a regal African
woman; tall already, she practically towered over everyone in the
room with the addition of a turban wrapped around her head that complemented her
traditional, flowing garments.
She looked old but she didn't move like she was, slipping into the room with
easy grace.
Her face was broad, her features almost masculine, but Leon barely noticed that- he
was lost in her eyes almost immediately.

Her eyes pulled him in and he felt
like he was swimming in light. Rivers seemed to unroll before him, their
water spreading out to nourish the life that sprang up from the land around
them. Grass grew tall, trees taller still, insects buzzing about their
business, the bugle of an elephant echoing across the plain that had developed
in his mind was answered by the roar of a lion. He could feel the sunlight on his face
the scene was so real, but Jill touched his arm and suddenly it was all gone.

Leon blinked, shaking himself out of the
spell of the woman's gaze. She was looking at him strangely as he
recovered- as if his presence had surprised her and she now realized that she
knew him from somewhere. She spoke a phrase in a language he didn't
understand then shook her head. "I apologize," she said,
her words carefully spoken in the manner of one who has learned English late in life
as one language of many and who doesn't always remember which words in her head
belong to which grammar set.
She turned away from him, toward the siblings.
"Devika, Harisha. I will be leaving for awhile. It will be much
later when I return." She bowed to the group without seeming to move her body at all
then swept out of the room, tossing Leon a sly glance as she departed. Leon was vaguely aware of the brother assuring
the woman that they would be fine and would wait for her, but he hardly listened. The
woman... He'd only really noticed it as she left, but he supposed he'd known it
about her as soon as she'd walked into the room. Her eyes... they were different
colors. It was hard to see at first, because they were so dark... but
one was a deep, brown gold; the other was perhaps blue, but so dark he
thought it might also have been purple.

"Leon? You okay?"

Shaking off Jill's concerned arm, Leon turned to Devika's
brother. "Who was that?"

It was Devika herself who answered. "Aunt Ramla?"
Her expression was curious and slightly surprised. "She's a
friend of our mother's. Why?"

He blinked, a shiver running through him. "No
reason," he grumbled. "Now what's going on with this guy trying to kill
you?"

Devika sighed as she settled herself into a chair that was
too big for her. She lay her instrument beside the chair, angling herself to keep at least one eye on
it at all
times. "It hasn't progressed quite that far yet; Isha's just nervous.
But the threats have been escalating and I have a fairly good idea who's behind
it. There's just no hard evidence."
Her brother shifted in his seat, and she rolled her eyes. "Isha has a
theory. I must insist that you let him tell you, so that we can get his
nonsense out of the way." She glared at her brother as he stood to speak.

Leon motioned him to silence. "Just a minute.
First, I have to know... is there a reason you're dragging that thing around
with you everywhere?" He gestured to the cello. "Seriously, that
thing's bigger than you are."

Jill frowned at him, but Devika wasn't offended in the
slightest. She grinned. "It is large," she admitted, "even though
it's not a full size cello, and pretty heavy. But I can't take the chance of leaving it somewhere. If
someone were to break it..." She shook her head, mute at the horror of
such an idea. "It would be so easy, and there would be no way for
anyone to say it wasn't an accident."

"Dev's cello isn't just some over the counter readily
available instrument either," Isha commented, more than ready for it to be his
turn to talk. "It's made especially for her, from imported woods, by
a master of the craft."

"It's worth a lot of money," Jill observed.

"It's more than the money," Devika corrected. "Each
instrument is unique; learning my instrument, discovering how to coax the best
sounds from it, is as much a part of my success as any actual playing ability on my part."

"So trashing it would be a good first step for a rival."
Leon shifted his gaze from the cello back to Devika. "That's who you think
is after you?"

She half-nodded, half-shrugged. "The man I suspect
would be a musical rival, though not a cellist."

"Fair enough." Leon nodded to Isha.
"What's your story?"

Isha's face brightened. "My
sister is not being threatened by any earthly force," he began, waving an
expressive hand toward said sister- which she responded to with a
withering glare-
"but by a creature of the spirit plane."

He paused then, for emphasis, and Leon had to shoot an
incredulous glance at Jill as silence descended about the room. Jill wasn't looking at him; she was
looking at Isha, with a look that seemed to say she was about to buy whatever
theory he spouted no matter how nuts it was. Leon sighed, quietly, and
settled back to hear the rest of the story, since he seemed to be bound for it
any way he looked at it.

"First," Isha continued, "let me explain that our father
was a man of great spiritual importance in the Indian village where his- our- family has lived
for generations. We have not seen him since we were
very young, but recently I received this in the mail from him." He withdrew
from the front of his jacket a folded sheet of paper which he unfolded and showed to the
group.

"It looks like Sanskrit," Leon observed.

"Ah, you are familiar with the language?"

Leon glared at Isha. "No. What does it say?"

Isha fairly preened under the attention. "It is an excerpt from an ancient text detailing the
method and reasons for summoning a deva, a creature of supernatural power
and questionable loyalties." He paused again. "They are often
used for the purpose of conducting assassinations."

"And you think this is what's got it in for your sister?"
Leon tried- really tried- to keep the skepticism out of his voice, but from the looks he
was getting he hadn't succeeded. It wasn't that Isha's idea was utterly
preposterous... it was more that the younger man seemed to have reached it with
a series of leaps in logic Leon wasn't prepared to emulate.

"Yes. I think it is fairly obvious. Her
troubles started soon after I received the letter. Our father is warning
us of something."

It was Devika's turn to express her incredulity, turning
eyes wide with anger on her brother.
"Why now? He's had such a nice impact on our lives for the past twenty
years, with his being gone. He's chosen such an excellent time to
become involved again- now, a week before my recital!" She hid her face in
her hand, trying to restrain her emotions in front of strangers.

"Look," Leon leaned forward, spreading his hands in a
placating gesture. "We've got two angles on what's going on: I say we
start by investigating both of them. Jill, why don't you and Danielle take
Devika back to wherever she's staying and have a look around. This stalker
has left some sort of tokens, right?" At Devika's nod, Leon continued.
"Good, that's a place to start. Meanwhile," he eyed Isha. "I'm
going to see how big of holes I can tear in your ghost theory."

Isha drew himself up in indignation. "It is not a
ghost..."

Leon waved him to silence. "And then we'll meet up
again later to discuss what we've found out. Sound good?" He did wait for
responses, but no one offered any. His eyes narrowed. "Good."

-o-o-o-o-

D didn't hear the door chime, but when he
returned from the kitchen there was a woman standing in the front of the
shop. She was tall, impressively so, and the birds gathered around
her, fighting for space to perch on her upraised arms, as other animals
circled around her feet. They all called
greetings to her and it was the racket that had drawn D's attention.
How unusual...

"Welcome. How may I be of assistance?"
He could see the outline of her body- she was long
as well as tall, with wide shoulders; her dark skin was weathered with age, her hair pale as
it peeked
from under the turban that crowned her head and her clothing was unlike
anything he'd ever seen. The turban was brightly and variedly colored,
and she wore a long, dark, linen dress, the cut of which suggested both
simplicity and elegance.

She looked up at him, and he gasped as he met her
eyes. The most amazing feeling of familiarity rushed through him; it was almost like looking in a mirror, despite the vast physical
differences between him and this woman and the fact that they had never
before met. She smiled at him, the
whiteness of her teeth parting the smooth darkness of her face and the
sound of her voice an odd mix of accents as she said,
"You do not recognize me? Then you must be the third. It has
been many, many years since I spoke with my spirit brother, but not so long
that he or his son should forget me."

D's jaw practically dropped and he stared at her,
unable to tear his eyes away. "You..." he started, but,
unsure how to finish said simply, "I had
no idea."

She raised an eyebrow at him before turning to
exchange greetings with some of the birds perched on her arm. "I
am wounded to the soul that I have not been spoken of," she told
them, but
the sideways look and grin that she slid in D's direction countered her
words.

"I... I have not spoken with my grandfather in...
a long time. Please, come in. Sit down." D retreated to the
kitchen to collect the tea he had been making when the woman had arrived.
Returning, he poured her a cup which she accepted graciously.

She smiled in thanks as she took the cup from him.
"I must confess I am glad to find you here, and not... anyone else."
She smiled mysteriously, and sipped at her tea.

D sighed. "I assume that it is my father you refer to."

She held the teacup in her lap. "Yes, I
suppose it is. I don't suppose you knew he was in love with my daughter?"

D was glad he was sitting down as his teacup fell
from fingers suddenly nerveless with shock to clatter noisily on the
floor. "He...
what?"

Her easy smile spread into a grin as she sipped at
her tea. "Yes they
really should have told you to expect me." Her tone was
philosophical and highly amused. "I can be difficult to
accept even for those who are well prepared. I do try to behave
myself; why earlier today I saw your young man and I behaved very nicely
I must say. But," she fixed her mismatched eyes on D's own, "how could you
think that you were alone in your purpose? Where there is a god,
must there not also be a goddess?"

Still reeling from her revelation, and her
unpredictable changing of topics, D tried to focus on her question and
form some sort of response. "I suppose... it makes sense.
Though... I had thought that our purpose was... unique." He must
have sounded as lost as he felt, his fingers curling tightly around his
reclaimed teacup like it was the last bastion of stability in the chaos
that she had brought with her. She placed her own teacup on the table
and, pulling his hands from their death grip, enfolded them in her own.
Her hands were large- they'd dwarfed her teacup- and the skin was rough
and calloused, like a farmer's, the hands of someone who worked
outdoors with earth.

"It is a purpose too great to be contained by any
uniqueness. And as the world grows lesser from the dissipation of
its mysteries, there has been a greater need for such a purpose."
Her eyes were distant for a moment, seeing something that was no longer
there, some pain that gnawed at her heart still. D felt his fingers
curl around her hands more tightly; that pain was something he understood.
She blinked then smiled at him again, though the expression was sadder
now. "And even such a noble purpose can become corrupted far too
easily."

D stiffened, wondering what she knew about him,
about Leon- had she mentioned something about meeting Leon earlier? But she wasn't looking at him; she saw his face and
was seeing someone else behind it- his grandfather most likely.

"The Count never cared for me," she said out of
nowhere, but following D's train of thought. "Perhaps that is why
he did not speak of me. He disagrees with the way I perform my duties. I lied to you, you know." She switched subjects,
switched persons, again so quickly D was almost at a loss to follow her
conversation.

"About what?"

One side of her mouth curled into a mocking grin.
"I would have thought it was obvious. Perhaps you don't know him
that well. Your father; he wasn't in love with my daughter."
D nodded numbly; that certainly made more sense. "He was in love with the
idea of my daughter," she continued. "With the idea of joining our
two traditions, of creating some sort of superlative of what we are.
As if we could become any more than what we are." Her eyes
followed D now, looking for something in his face- in his face
and no one else's. "He has great dreams."

D blinked. "He does."

She touched his cheek. "You are different.
From them both."

He stared at her. "Yes." The word
fell from his lips, unwilling, and unknown until he spoke it. Eyes
flew open in surprise again as he raised a hand to his lips, wondering
what he had just confessed.

She smiled, leaning back and changing the subject
again. "They call me Ramla. The
humans." Her eyes never left his as her lips curled in humor. "It
mean 'prophet' in the tongue of my country. Perhaps it is not
unlike your own title, hmm?"

"Perhaps." D frowned, looking down;
something about that seemed wrong. He realized that Q-chan was no
longer in the room; he couldn't remember the last time he had seen the
creature, but he supposed it had been that morning. "No," he said
suddenly, looking back up at her. "It is not the same, I think."

Ramla's smile widened. "No, it is not."
She grinned like a cat with cream. "You are the first one to see
that." She leaned forward, taking his hands again. "There
is a difference between us, between you and me, but there is also a
difference between you and the others of your line." Her grin
spread over her face. "I think you see why your grandfather does not
care for me?"

D nodded; he could definitely see how that could
be so. "You are strange. Though," he bit his lip
before he smiled, feeling very young in her presence. "That is not
necessarily a bad thing."

"Indeed, it is not." She sat for a long moment staring at him. "I
see it," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, her grin
turning downright malicious. "The Count does not know what he has
gotten himself into." Confused as to her last comment, D was about
to ask her what she meant when she immediately launched off into another
whirlwind. "I think the core is different, and that is why we have
never seen eye to eye," she smirked, "as it were- the Count and I."
She lifted her cup suddenly and drank the rest of her tea. "You avenge those who are persecuted,"
she said, taking his hands again and holding them pressed them
against her heart. "An
admirable goal, for certain, but from what I have seen every
creature
eventually becomes a victim. Humans as well." Her eyes
regained their far away look as she looked through him, murmuring,
"Too many times have I seen humans become the
persecuted." Her eyes focused on his suddenly. "Too many times have the people of my lands been
destroyed because of some war that they did not even know the reason
for. Too many times have I seen children forget their parent's
faces before they learn to speak; too many times have those children
died through the lack of something- of food, water, medicine,
love..." Her eyes pulled him in, and he realized he wasn't
breathing. "Is not our true purpose to give? To give to
those who have lost?"

D sat up straight, inhaling deeply, snatching his hands away from
her. True purpose... His grandfather's words to him rang
through his head, echoing with Ramla's voice. He stood, needing to
move, the feeling inside of him threatening to overwhelm him as he
wavered on his feet. "Yes," he murmured. "I
suppose it is."
-o-o-o-o-

Leon was regretting his decision to send Jill off
with Devika. Thinking back now, he would have much rather reversed
their places.

"Let me get this straight." Leon rubbed his
temples, his elbows resting on the table he was seated beside. He
and Isha had taken over a conference room tucked away in a corner of the
auditorium building, one wall of the room given over to tall windows
which let in the bright sunlight. Between the light and the
tangled knot of apparently contradictory information he was pulling from
Isha Leon wasn't particularly surprised at the headache he could feel coming
on. "So, your father the voodoo priest"- Isha glared at him- "who you
haven't seen since you were three"- Isha tried to interrupt him, but
Leon pushed right on through- "somehow figured out where you were
staying and mailed you this paper, that doesn't actually say anything
important? And how is this the key to solving your sister's
stalker case?"

Isha's glare was verging on deadly by now, but
Leon ignored it. "I said," Isha started frostily, "that it does not in fact have on it the
precise instructions on how to summon the deva spirit, which is the information
you asked me for." His tone downright dangerous now, Isha continued,
"That does not mean that there is nothing of importance on the paper."

"Well, if it doesn't say why this thing might be
trying to kill your sister, and it doesn't say how to get that thing
here so we can ask it why it's trying to kill your sister, how are you
so certain this," he pointed at the paper in question, "has anything to
do with your sister at all?"

Isha sighed, sinking into the chair across from
Leon's and running his hands through his hair. "Since we were
little," he began, "I have always looked out for Dev. I may be
only five minutes older than her, but I've always felt the need to
protect her. The last time I saw my father he told me to
watch over
her because someone would be coming for her."

"He told you that when you were three?"

"No." Isha stood again, pacing around the
room. "I have seen him since then. I did not want to mention
it in front of my sister; she doesn't know. I saw him almost two
years ago." He stopped pacing, his gaze distant as he stared at
something that wasn't there. "I was in Kenya, visiting my mother's
family." His gaze snapped to Leon suddenly, and he said, as if it
carried great importance, "Aunt Ramla set up our meeting."

Here was an area of the conversation Leon had some
interest in. "Your sister said she's not really your aunt."

He waved his hand as if such a detail were
unimportant, or common knowledge. "No, everyone calls her
that. She's been a... well,
more of an acquaintance than a friend, of my mother's family for years.
No one knows how old she is, but she- along with her mother at first,
and then later her daughter- has lived alongside my mother's tribe since
before my grandmother's time." He frowned, as if just realizing he
had deviated from the story he'd been trying to tell. "My mother
doesn't care for my father much; since he left when we were little she
hasn't spoken to him, not even once. But Ramla told me he was there to
see me so I went." He met Leon's eyes and the detective didn't
have to ask why he'd gone. "He told me to protect Dev. That
was all."

Leon pushed. "That was all? He didn't say
anything else?"

Isha waved his hand again. "He said dark men
were coming for her, he said he would send someone to help me, he said
he had to leave but there was a guide who would explain it all. I
thought it was some crazy delusion at first. I mean, I hadn't seen
this man for 18 years and he comes out of nowhere, ranting about dark
men coming for my sister. But..." He hesitated, his wildly
wandering gaze settling on Leon again. "It was Ramla who convinced
me. She believed him, so I had to. She has a way of doing
that," he said, with some chagrin.

"I can imagine," Leon murmured. "So, did
anything else happen with these 'dark men'?"

Isha shook his head. "No. I never
found out what he was talking about exactly. Ever since I got that
paper in the mail I've been studying it, trying to figure out what it
could mean for Dev."

Leon realized something that should have been
obvious. "You know
Sanskrit."

"Yes. Our stepfather is rather wealthy,
which resulted, for me, in an educational pedigree that would inspire
jealous rage in most Ivy Leaguers." Isha's grin was hard and
slightly feral.
"Just because my mother thinks my father is a sleaze I don't see why I
shouldn't understand my heritage." Fondness crept into his voice.
"For Dev, our stepfather's money meant she could study her passion when most kids
our age
were out slinging burgers in order to earn enough to get tickets
to the next boy band rave."

It was in the middle of Isha's last sentence that
Leon thought he started noticing... something. He wasn't sure what
to call it, but it was like a flickering of the light, as if something
was passing over the sun, interrupting the flow of its light. He
would have thought he was imagining it, but Isha turned toward the
window, his brow creased in mild curiosity. As soon as Isha
stopped talking, it stopped.

As soon as he stopped talking... about his
sister. Leon wasn't sure why he felt the two events were
related, but he was sure they were. "Tell me more about Devika,"
he urged Isha, and the younger man complied, listing her accomplishments
in her art, his voice growing fonder and prouder as he went. Sure enough, the
strange flickering started again. "So," Leon interrupted
after a few minutes, "what
does that paper of yours say about these whatevers- 'deva's you
call them, right?"
-o-o-o-o-

Out behind the auditorium building
the city had had some temporary buildings set up to serve as prep and
practice rooms for the group of musicians. The largest was
reserved for Devika, and, as she told Jill, it was so nice that the cellist
usually just crashed there after a long day of practicing rather than
make the trip to her hotel.

Entering the main room, Jill looked around
and tried to control her amazement. "You know," she murmured to Danielle under her breath, "this
room is almost bigger than our entire apartment."

Danielle smothered a giggle. "You're
exaggerating grossly," she murmured back.

Devika reemerged from her closet,
where she had been trying to find the latest note the stalker had left
her. She handed it to Jill, obviously glad to be rid of it as the
detective took the paper delicately by the edges. Jill wrinkled
her nose at the rather unoriginal threat of "if these demands are not
met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur" and examined the
note closely to see if any particularly distinctive elements had been
used in its creation.

"Well?" Danielle asked eagerly,
returning from the closet again to hand Jill more notes and tokens that
had been left for her.

Jill frowned, glancing over at her. "Unless
red paint
and copier paper have suddenly become hard to obtain, this note may not be much
help." She peered more closely at the paint. "This is a
strange shade, though; it might be custom mixed." She smiled supportively at Devika. "I
can take this stuff down to the lab, analyze the materials and see
if we can get any prints but," she had to say, "there's a high
likelihood we won't find anything conclusive."

Dev nodded, trying not to look disappointed; she
had known that there wasn't much of a chance of a lead developing out of
the notes, but she'd still hoped.

"It would definitely help if
we could catch him in the act," Jill mused. "Who do you suspect?"

Devika sighed. "The lead flute player in the orchestra, Devlin
Warren. He's always giving me strange looks." She
shuddered. Before Jill
could start in on her "that's not enough for a warrant" speech, Devika
continued, "and two days ago he stole my rosin; I had to send Isha
out to get me more. I didn't know it was Devlin though until this
morning- he made a comment about it over breakfast." She shuddered
again. "He's so creepy. But, that means
he was in my room at least once."

Jill glanced at Danielle. "I
think that's enough that the building supervisor can search his room."

Danielle grinned and shook the
small ring of keys she pulled from her pocket. "Works for me!
Let's go."

She pushed the door open and the
trio prepared to make their way down the row of doors in search of the
one belonging to Mr. Warren. On the way however, they were
practically run over by the director as he exited the doorway right next
to Devika's in a great deal of haste, tripping over Danielle and stumbling
a few steps till he was face to face
with Jill.

"Mr. Sellers!" Devika
exclaimed, then, more thoughtfully, "What were you doing in Amanda's
room?"

Jill raised an eyebrow at the
director as it occurred to her that the room in question shared an
adjoining wall with Devika's room. "Is there anything I can help you with Mr. Sellers?"

"Yes," he exclaimed, breathing
heavily and waving back at the room he had just exited. "There's
something in there. It keeps flapping around my head! Some
kind of bird or something."

"You two keep looking for Warren,"
Jill said, motioning Dev and Danielle to continue on their way.
"I'll look into this."

Devika looked worried, but
Danielle shrugged and started off down the row, reading the names on the
doors as she looked for a certain one. Meanwhile, Jill approached
the door before her cautiously. The name on the door was "Amanda Walton"
as Devika had observed, and Jill took a minute to wonder what the
director was doing in this woman's room in the middle of the day,
unsupervised. Cracking the door open, Jill peeked in, trying to
catch a glimpse of whatever had assaulted the director. But she
soon let the door fall all the way open; the room was completely empty.
She turned on the director, scowling. "Look here Sellers..."

A shrill scream broke the midday
stillness, and Jill was out of the room almost as soon as she heard it,
running in the direction she'd sent Devika. She didn't have far to
run- she could see Devika running toward her. Thankful that
nothing had happened to the young musician she wondered what the
screaming had been about as Dev ran into her sobbing. Wrapping
an arm around the distressed girl, Jill looked up to see Danielle
walking toward them.

"We found Mr. Warren," she said,
her voice even and her expression completely flat. "He's dead."
She paused. "It's, um... not pretty." Controlling her
reactions to grisly sights was something Danielle had had a lot of
experience with; apparently Devika had not. Jill rubbed the girl's
shoulder comfortingly, trying to calm her enough to pass her to Danielle
so Jill could go investigate the scene. She had just accomplished
this when Leon and Isha came running up, Isha going straight to his
distraught sister as she collapsed gratefully in his arms.

"What is it?" Leon asked, his eyes
focusing on Jill as she stepped back from Warren's door.

Jill took a deep, shaky breath.
"Well, Danielle was right- it's not pretty." She shook her head
slightly, to clear it, then elaborated for the newcomer's sake, "Dev
thought this guy, Devlin Warren, might be her stalker because of some comments he
made pertaining to something he might have stolen from her. We
were on our way here to check it out, but..." She trailed off.
Leon moved to step past her, to see into the room, but Jill placed a
hand on his chest stopping him. He glanced at her and she
withdrew her hand.

Leon stepped into the room and could
tell immediately why Jill hadn't wanted him to see this. What had happened was
pretty obvious, even to someone who hadn't spent the last couple years
more or less specializing in the investigation of murders by mauling...
and that someone was not Leon. He stood for a moment looking down
at the eviscerated body, and wondered which of the emotions filling him
he should concentrate on. He was still debating that as he turned
to leave; and though he knew he shouldn't disturb the
scene, something made him reach down and pick up an object that lay
near his foot. It was a claw, about as long as his thumb, obviously
broken off during the attack; there was still blood on it from where it
had cut into the victim's chest.

Leon exited the room, rejoining
the others as they grouped around Isha and Dev. The odd
flickering of the light he'd experienced earlier was back, worse than
before, accompanied by a buzzing noise. He glanced at the only
member of the group he didn't know, and suddenly the buzzing noise grew
in intensity. The man was the director, he remembered, of the
orchestra, and he was currently pretending to be very concerned about
Devika. The buzzing intensified, almost blinding Leon with the
pressure in his head. "Dammit," he murmured, not noticing the look
Jill shot him as he rubbed at his head. "Dammit, I get it- shut
up!!" He was shouting now, and when Leon opened his own eyes he could
see five pairs staring back at him. He ran his hand roughly
through his hair; thankfully the buzzing sound had stopped and the light
had stopped flickering as well.

"Leon?" Jill approached him
warily.
He grunted at her.
"I'm fine." But he grinned suddenly, the expression
predatory. "And I know who the stalker is." Devika gasped.
"He's here right now," Leon continued.

"Sellers," Jill confirmed, eyeing
the man to see if he was going to bolt. She shot a quick
glance at Leon. "How?"

Isha's grip tightened around his sister's
shoulders. "The deva," he breathed. "You saw it."

"Yeah," Leon admitted.
"Sort of."

Jill frowned. "What..." She had to
pause a moment, to tackle Sellers as he tried to run, before she could listen to Leon's
explanation.

"Isha
and I," Leon hastily explained as Jill handcuffed the director, "ah, discussed his ghost theory," Isha harrumphed, "and figured out that it does hold water."

"But," Devika looked at her
brother, glancing between all the others present and carefully not
looking toward the doorway of the late Mr. Warren. "I don't understand.
And what about..." She paled, stealing a glance at the doorway.

Leon's fingers felt the shape of the claw he still
held cupped in one hand. "I think I know someone who can help us out with
that." He paused. "And a few other things."
-o-o-o-o-

Ramla smiled at D. "You are a much more
receptive audience than I usually find. Usually by this time your
grandfather would be ordering me out the door."

Her speaking of his grandfather reminded D of
something and he frowned thoughtfully. "Yes. Though I
think... I see it," he said, strangely echoing her words of
earlier.

Her eyes focused on him intently. "What do you see?"

"I see where the two of you come to a head." D
took a deep breath. "My grandfather... When he tells me of
how we came by the trust placed in us, I think for him the truth
of his purpose is attempting to ensure that there is not a need for
the
giving you speak of." He raised his eyes and met her fixed gaze. "And my
father also, I think, is more interested in prevention, in the removal
of the source of the continued suffering of our charges, than in comforting them in
the aftermath."

"Do you see also that this is where you are
different?" He paused, but nodded. She smiled, and told him
a story. "My mother's mother's mother's
ancestor," she began, her voice smooth as she leaned back comfortably in
her chair, her gaze growing distant, "looked around her and saw that the word was driving itself
crazy. People and animals died around her daily, killing each
other for greed, and out of anger that had no purpose. She wept
for the senselessness of it. She refused food when her daughters
brought it to her and she refused sleep when her body cried out for it,
for the crying in her heart was greater. She wandered the land
until she fell down upon it and did not rise again.

"It was then that a spirit appeared to her.
It was the spirit of the Earth, and with it were the spirits of the
animals and the spirits of the people. They called out to her, and
she listened." She paused, her eyes returning to D. "It was
because she listened that she was chosen. The spirits cry out to
many, but few are they who listen.

"She lived for them, to teach others about how to
live with each other without anger and hatred. She lived for them,
because there was no life left in her for herself. But, she was
too alone and her daughter came to live with her so that she might
remember what it meant to be alive and in so remembering better teach it
to others. When, after many years, she
died, she was reborn and the woman who had been her daughter was now her
mother, instructing her in the ways of the world and of their purpose in
it. In this way, they continued through the years. The world
grew more and more wronged around them but they strove to help it find
peace, and justice."

D nodded. When she did not continue he
offered, "Our story is...
different."

She smiled softly. "So I have
suspected." She paused, but when D remained silent her smile grew
more sardonic. "I have yet to hear it, though I have guessed
at much of what it must be; I can feel that there is a pain in it that
is not easily shared." She shook herself
suddenly, pulling her mind back to something she had forgotten. "But all this is not why I have come to you today.
There is a young woman in my care. She is plagued by a spirit, but
it will not speak to me. I hoped that you could help her."

D raised an eyebrow. "I would much rather
help the spirit," he murmured, but he continued with a sigh, "Where is
she?"

The door chimed as someone entered. Without
looking toward the sound, Ramla
smiled. "That would be them now."

D looked up to see Leon walking in, followed by
Jill and two other people. He blinked but he wasn't in the least bit
surprised, though he wondered why not. Leon looked straight at him; D looked straight back, but
his eyes looked through Leon to see something else.

Leon shifted his weight and D blinked again.
"Welcome," he said to the group, gesturing to the chaise and the
chairs across from it, one of which he had
just vacated. "Please, come in and be seated." D met Leon's eyes
again as the detective walked past him; he saw nothing he didn't
want to see in those eyes, and something inside of him warmed.

"This is Devika," Ramla said, placing her arms
around the girl who had sat beside her, but as D looked at the young
woman he knew he would not have needed the introduction. An aura
of fire seemed to flare about her, radiating out from her; the animals
in the shop had reacted to her when she came in, the birds moving
restlessly, though strangely silent, and the reptiles suddenly absenting
themselves
from the front room.

"So it is," D responded, holding out his hand to
the woman. She looked at him before she took it, as if wondering
if that was what she was supposed to do. But she rose, and the moment she
touched D a muted explosion filled the shop- an explosion of air and
feathers as a large golden bird suddenly hung in the space between them,
flapping its huge wings for a moment before it settled lightly on D's arm and turned
to look at Devika.

She stared back, her eyes wide in shock. "Isha,"
she murmured, her hands reaching for him, but her brother was already stepping in behind her to wrap
his arms around her as he also stared at the bird in wonder. The
bird leaned forward with a ripple of feathers, reaching out to touch its
beak to the side of Devika's face as it clucked softly, deep in its
throat. She reached up a hand dazedly, letting it brush lightly
against the feathered head. "How?" she said, her voice barely
audible. "What?"

"You may call him Gamara," D said, his voice just
as soft. He stroked the bird under the chin as it turned to him.
"He has been watching over you."

"Watching over me?" Devika glanced at Isha.
"Why?"

Leon chuckled. "You were right about your
dad and his warning Isha, you just had it backwards." His eyes
took in Gamara's shimmering form before he turned to D. "What is
he protecting Devika from?"

"I think he can tell you himself," D said with a
smile. Gamara glanced between the two of them sheepishly but
nodded, and suddenly the bird spread its wings and they turned in to a
flowing cape as he took on the form of a young man, his fingers curled around D's arm
where the bird's talons had been moments before. Devika gasped,
fingers covering her mouth.

"I am sorry," Gamara said, his voice smooth and
melodic. "Devika, I have not been able to protect you as well as I
should. The fault is mine, and I pray you lay no blame with your
father who, at the moment of your birth, charged me with your
protection."

Devika's legs folded beneath her, unable to
support her weight, and she sank back onto the chaise, her mouth a
round, soundless "O" of astonishment. Her brother, however, was
far more difficult to shock speechless. "Our father did that?" He
stepped in front of Dev, between her and Gamara. "Why? Why
did he not tell me?"

Gamara turned shining, golden eyes on Isha.
"Your father was a holy man of his tribe, this you know- though
perhaps you do not know the truth height of your lineage. Your sister is the
firstborn girl-child of the line in seven generations." Isha
opened his mouth to argue this, but stopped as he though about it.
Gamara continued, "There are prophecies I will not speak now; suffice to
say that as such she is a target of the
tribe of the serpents." His lip curled as he mentioned them.
"They are most insidious, though for a long time your sister was
protected by the fact that they did not think to look for her in this
strange land." He looked back to Dev. "One of their
number promised a reward to the leader of your music company if he would
destroy your performance; for even more than your death the serpents
desire that you be humiliated and crushed in spirit. I have protected you as best as I
have been able, though it has been taxing on my strength to remain
hidden so as not to cause consternation for those around you who might
see me." He hung his head. "My best was not good
enough. I am
sorry. I failed you."

"Oh, no." Devika stretched out a hand and
touched Gamara's arm, the bird spirit looking at her in surprise,
lambent eyes wide. "You haven't failed at all! I'm still
alive aren't I? I'm still able to play." She stroked his arm shyly. "You've done
splendidly."

Gamara glanced between Devika and Count D as if to
see whether he shared her opinion. The Count smiled. "She is
correct. You have done an admirable job considering the limited
resources you have had to work with." He paused, his voice softening.
"You are young to have been entrusted with this task, and you have
been lacking in guidance. You were expecting
further aid from the father."

Gamara's expression saddened. "Yes."
It was a moment before he continued. "But he was... killed."
There was a gasp from Isha and Devika, and even Leon looked surprised.
"It has been almost a month since he fell to the serpents." Isha stood, shock on his
face, and it was Dev's turn to go to him and take him in her arms.

Leon glanced at Jill. She had drifted away
from the group and already had her cell phone out and was speaking to
someone on the other end. She nodded to Leon, and he returned the
gesture. D caught his eye and raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"We left the director guy with Danielle," Leon explained. "We, ah, tied him to a chair
pretty securely, but it looks like Jill's called in the cavalry so there
shouldn't be any worries about him getting away." Leon's
expression was suddenly darkly mischievous. "Count, I was wondering if
you could help us shed some light on a different case, one involving a Devlin Warren?"

Devika gasped, turning from Isha to look at them,
her gaze settling on D. "Do you know what happened to him?"

D gave Leon a questioning look. "The name is
not familiar."

"I'm sure. Maybe this'll help." He
pulled the claw out of his pocket and placed it in D's hand.

Emotion flitted over D's face, the expression
passing too swiftly to be identified. "Ah yes. I remember
him. Young man, Caucasian, dark haired. He bought an
animal." He smiled his usual smile.

"Right," Leon snorted. "What kind?"

"A Turkic canine," D responded helpfully.
"From central Asia." He paused, but continued, not looking at
Leon, "Mr. Warren was most insistent that he only wanted the one,
however the bitch he chose was already mated." He stroked the claw
in his hand. "I did warn him that there might be...
complications." He looked up at Leon from half lidded eyes.
Leon looked at him, but it was Ramla who spoke next.

"He ignored the balance of nature that
surrounds him," she said, her eyes on Devika, "deliberately choosing
against what he had been informed of." Her voice was soft and smooth. "Knowledge
is an amazing thing, as is instructing the ignorant. But out of death
comes life, as even the insects feed upon the bodies of those whose
spirits have departed the flesh." Slightly numb from the
events of the day, Devika nodded in acceptance of this answer to the
question of what had happened to the flautist.

To D's surprise, Leon grinned at Ramla's words.
"Isn't that the truth." D stared at him for a moment, amazed
at how much the man had changed over the course of their acquaintance, and yet
he remained the same at his core.
Leon met his eyes, and for a moment the world seemed to stop. It
didn't fade away or become less important, but it paused for a moment as
if in recognition of something. When it started up again, D realized
that the group was leaving.

"Thank you for your help." Devika said to D- Gamara hovering at her side- wringing her hands in indecision and then
reaching out to clasp D's hand warmly in her own. She shook it
awkwardly, too full of emotion and too young to understand how to fully
express the enormity of her gratitude.

He smiled distantly in answer. "I am glad I was able
to have been of service." And though his words were rote he
could feel how very grateful she was and he was glad for it. It
fed something inside of him, and he thought he would have much to think
about later.

Isha, at her side, gave D an odd look.
"Truly Count, thank you." He urged his sister out of the shop, her
other hand curled possessively, and protectively, around Gamara, the spirit back in bird
form and perched on her shoulder as they stepped back out into the world.

Jill watched them go, Leon watching her. "We should go make
sure that Sellers gets down to the station," he said.

Jill turned to her partner. "I can
handle it." Her eyes flickered to D then back to Leon.
"Besides, I think I need to have a talk with Harisha." She
grinned, following the siblings out of the shop. "See you later
partner."
-o-o-o-o-

Leon looked around for Ramla
to find that the mysterious woman was already gone, and that he was one
of only two people left in the shop. His eyes settled on D,
drinking in the features of his face. Leon stepped
forward, and almost without any conscious thought his hand came up to
brush against the skin beneath D's right eye, as if trying to capture
the soft goldenness of that orb. D did not lean into the touch, and Leon
drew back as if just realizing what he was doing. D was looking at
him with that look- the ones he used for customers- and Leon
couldn't remember the last time D had looked at him with such cold
indifference. He took another step back, but D's hand on his arm
stopped him.

D stepped closer to Leon, his
expression softer now as he slid his body in against Leon's and leaned against him. He rested his
head on Leon's shoulder and sighed softly, contentedly, as Leon's arms
came up around him.

They stood like that for a moment
before Leon asked softly, "How're you doing?"
D leaned back slightly, looking up
at the detective. "I have... realized something." He smiled.
"Two things, perhaps."

"Yeah? What's that?"

He leaned against Leon again with
another contented sigh. "That perhaps the true path is not as
narrow as I had believed." He reached up and his fingers touched
Leon's face, tracing the planes of it. "And that in any case sending you away,
being without you, is no longer an option for me."

Leon captured D's hand in his own
and turned his head to kiss the palm. "Good. No more
weirdness from you then."

D sighed again, more
introspectively this time. "We shall see," he said, but before
Leon could say anything D leaned up to kiss the
detective. "In the meantime," D continued, "I believe there is
another, more pressing, issue I would much rather be discussing with you."

Just from the look in D's eyes,
Leon found his breath ragged with aniticipation. He kissed D eagerly,
holding him tight in his arms. It felt like it had been forever since he'd
touched D, tasted him, been inside of him. D apparently agreed; he
shoved Leon forcefully, sending the taller man stumbling back toward the bedroom
as he followed, their lips still locked together.
Both were unwilling to break apart long enough to just walk the short
distance, and Leon ended up stumbling backwards into the room in
question as D
pinned him to the door with a kiss and then turned the knob to open that
portal. D helped Leon drop pieces of clothing as he backed the man
across the room- kicking off his shoes and shedding his shoulder holster, his belt, followed quickly by his
pants. D ripped Leon's shirt from his body rather than take the
time to pull it over his head but the detective was so busy trying to
figure out the confounded frog clasps of D's own garment that he hardly
noticed.

"Dammit!" Leon half-growled in
frustration as he finally broke their kiss, bending his whole attention
to removing the cheongsam from his lover's body. "I'm going
to fucking figure this thing out."

D sighed, thinking they would be
engaged in such a course for the entire night, but to his pleasant
surprise with Leon's attention and determination fully devoted the
detective soon wrestled the silken garment into submission. The
clasp came undone without any damage and Leon growled in success as he
attacked pale skin with tongue and teeth, the other clasps easily
following the way of the first. D shivered, his hands buried in
Leon's hair as Leon knelt before him, kissing the smooth skin of D's
stomach as his fingers worked to undo D's pants and pull them
out of the way of his seeking tongue.

It was D himself who undid the pants, letting the
cloth fall to the floor, and touching Leon's cheek as the man pressed
reverent lips to his skin just above the small patch of dark hair that
curled above the stiffening length of his cock. Leon's hand came
up to stroke that length and D moaned softly with another shiver.
He hardened just at Leon's touch, and when the detective's lips closed
around the tip he thrust against that heat instinctively.

Leon wanted to shout for joy as he
felt D's cock in his hand, against his lips but he contented himself
with a moan as he took that flesh into his mouth, tasting it. God,
he'd missed this- this taste, the elusive scent that was just D, the
way D responded to his touch. He hadn't known just how much
he'd missed it- hadn't let himself think about that- until just now.

Which was why he almost cried when
he felt D's hands, buried in his hair, pull him away. The moan
building in him came out more like a whimper and he looked up at D with
an expression of belligerent inquiry. D pulled at his grip in Leon's hair and the
detective rose to his feet, obliging him for the moment as he pressed his lips to D's own
in search of the pleasure he had been denied, his hands on D's skin finding a nipple and rolling the
hard nub of it with a finger. D broke away with a gasp and he
shoved Leon backwards again so that the man fell onto the bed they had
been standing next to. Leon looked at him, reached for him and
eagerly pulled him closer as D crawled
on top of him, pressing the length of their bodies together, their cocks
caught between them and pressed together sending electric jolts through
them both. D inhaled deeply, surprised at the sensation; Leon's
mouth opened in a soundless gasp and his hands came up to grip around
D's arms, but whether he wanted to pull the slighter man even closer or push
him away to escape this intensity even he couldn't tell.

D stroked Leon's thigh as he
looked down at the man beneath him. He seemed to reach some sort
of decision and nudged Leon's legs apart so that he lay fully between them.
He kissed Leon's face, his chest and neck, while one hand curled around
the hard length of Leon's cock and the other slipped back beneath
Leon; his fingers traced around the opening there,
teasing at it.
Leon
stiffened, his eyes flying open wide as his hands gripped more tightly
around D's upper arms. D stopped what he was doing, withdrew, and
looked at Leon. D kept his expression flat and emotionless but inside
his heart was hammering. He knew he'd pushed Leon, and while pain
tore at his heart that Leon should ever have a reason to react so to his
touch, he
knew if they were going to do this Leon needed to trust him enough to
let him do it. He met Leon's startled eyes, but he needn't
have worried; after his initial tension, Leon relaxed. He smiled
and his hands released their grip on D's arms, one caressing D's
shoulder while the other brushed D's cheek beneath his right eye.
D felt his own expression soften. He leaned up to take Leon's lips
in a lingering kiss.

But his body- both their bodies-
was too insistent for him to linger long. D paused to spread
oil on his fingers before he lay between Leon's legs again, one long
finger working its way inside of the detective. Leon tensed at the feeling, but D stroked his other hand
over Leon's stomach in soft circles while he dropped kisses, along with
small murmurings of Leon's name, down the inside of his thigh. His
finger was searching for something- that specific place inside of Leon
that he knew would bring the most pleasure... And with a startled
gasp Leon threw his head back, his body arching as D stroked that place
again.
"D," Leon murmured, his hands fisting in the sheets and his legs falling
open easily, instinctively, as he tried to invite the source of his
pleasure closer to his body. D obligingly leaned in, taking the
hard flesh of Leon's cock in his mouth and tasting it, stroking it with
his tongue. Leon's hips snapped up against him, trying to further
bury himself in the heat of D's mouth. His fingers stroked Leon's
thighs and D swallowed, urging that hard flesh further down his throat.

D's fingers worked at stretching
the passage inside of Leon's body; he thought Leon was ready and he removed his
hand. He let Leon's cock slid from his mouth, kissing his way up
the man's stomach and glancing up to see Leon watching him through
slitted eyes. He was trying to proceed without being obvious about what he was about to do,
but there wasn't really
a way to disguise it and the look in Leon's eyes said he already knew. D stopped. "Leon?" he
asked softly, ready to stop immediately if Leon needed him to.

Leon smiled, though the expression
would probably be better described as the baring of teeth. "Do it," he murmured
through his teeth.

D nodded. Holding up Leon's leg
and hooking it over his shoulder, he pressed closer to the man's body,
easing the dark, oiled flesh of his cock inside of that body. He could
see that Leon was trying not to but he tensed as he felt D's cock press
against him. D slid one hand across Leon's stomach, stroking the
skin gently as the man relaxed slightly. D pushed again, and the head
was fully in; after that, proceeding was easier.

He paused then- letting Leon's leg
fall to join the other, curled around D's waist- and looked down at the
man beneath him. Leon's face was flushed and his eyes were closed,
but D brushed golden hair back from Leon's forehead and Leon opened his
eyes, his gaze meeting D's own. He reached up a hand and touched
D's face. "It's not you," he murmured, seeing the pain on D's
face. "I know you."

D kissed him tenderly and
whispered simply, "I know." He shivered, feeling the need to move
his body, and he pulled out from Leon's body to slid back in, the
friction delightful against the oversensitive flesh of his cock.
He leaned down close to Leon, kissing his face, and Leon turned into the
touch. Tucking his head down next to Leon's, D nipped lightly at
Leon's ear and then turned to whisper, "I want to show you how you make
me feel." He pulled away from Leon again, the length of his cock
leaving the man's body, only to be thrust back in again. Leon
shivered, moaning appreciatively, his hands coming up to touch D's face
and pull his closer so that Leon's tongue could find his mouth. D
let himself be drawn down eagerly as he moved again in the rhythm of
pulling out and thrusting back into the welcoming heat of Leon's body.

Leon focused on the feel of D
inside of him; it was unlike anything he'd ever felt. Physically,
he knew he'd engaged in this act before, but it had never felt like
this- not in the slightest. The combination of emotions that
filled him now was entirely new and slightly overwhelming but D's breath
was hot on his skin and something about that felt so right that
Leon found he couldn't think about anything else. He didn't
want to think about anything else, and his breath caught in his
throat as the feel of D sliding inside of him sent a ripple of pleasure
through his entire body. D nipped lightly at the side of
Leon's neck and he inhaled deeply, gasping the air in as his arms closed
more tightly around D, his hips thrusting up against his lover's
penetrating cock, wanting more. All he wanted was more- more of
this feeling, this fullness, whatever it was called, whatever it meant.
And as D murmured against his throat, his tongue following a trail up
till teeth nipped lightly at an earlobe, Leon thought, this is it,
this is more.... Every moment added to his feeling of rightness.

D's body was moving almost without conscious
direction on his part. His only thought was to be inside of Leon,
to stay there, to make Leon his...   He braced himself
with both hands against the bed and moved faster, snapping his body
against Leon's with wild passion. Leon moaned encouragement, his
eyes smoldering up at D from under half closed lids. It was Leon
watching him that propelled him toward that edge, the edge from which he
knew he must fall. He approached it quickly, the usual slow
building that preceded his fall was absent and he went from just looking
at Leon and appreciating the beauty of his darkly golden hair which
caught even the dimmest light and reflected it back, to being consumed
by his need to be released inside of Leon and fill him utterly in the
span of moments. He could hardly contain his desire, and, as he
slid inside of the perfection that was Leon's body, he found he could not contain
it any longer, and he came, pouring himself into the man, filling him.

The sensation was not new to Leon,
and at the same time it was amazingly new as he felt D's hot seed
spilling in him. D was hardly touching him at all but the
awareness of D's climax seemed to trigger an answer in Leon's own body.
Or it could have been that last thrust of D's, perfectly angled, and the
words whispered in Leon's ear, "I know you as well." Leon
came, shooting white seed over his stomach, his vision going white for a
moment as he was seized with the intensity of the emotion. The feeling was
different from any he'd had before; usually he was stroked to climax,
but coming just from the feel of D inside of him... the ecstasy that
resounded through him as an aftereffect seemed to fill him with more
depth than it had before, echoing as if it shook his very soul.

It seemed forever later, or merely
seconds later, that D lay down against Leon, his body still shaking with
his release. Leon's arms came up around the other man and stroked down
along his
back. "D," he murmured contentedly. "I want
to stay."

Reveling in the deep relaxation
that was pulsing through him, D turned his head slightly to press lips
to the glistening chest he lay against. "Leon," he responded
softly, "I would not want you to ever leave."
-o-o-o-o-

They were lying on the bed together, but Pon-chan
could tell they weren't asleep. They just seemed loathe to do
anything that would remove them from each other's presence, even for a
moment. Good, she thought. It was about time the
Count relaxed, and she liked Leon. She stood for a moment in the
doorway, ears perked forward as she thought she heard something; "I
love you"- the words floated toward her and Pon-chan stood
intently, all her senses focused on the pair on the bed. Had that
been her god's voice? It must have been; she heard Leon's soft
laughter and warmly affirmative response. Well. That was a
good sign... a very good sign indeed.

She pushed the door closed
quietly; the pair had been in such a hurry they hadn't remembered
to shut it like they usually did. Not that the animals minded, and
not like they didn't know what went on in that room anyway; noses were
far more informative than eyes, and sex was not something animals had
hang ups about like humans did. She closed the door because of
Chris, which was really the main reason it was usually closed, but
mostly because she wanted the Count to truly enjoy this time, which he
wouldn't do if he looked over at the door and beyond it to remember that
he had work he should be doing.

Regina, the Siamese, was sitting on the table
washing her paws and she glanced up at Pon-chan as the badger shut the
door. She harrumphed lightly. "Do you think he will keep to
it this time?"

"Yes," she replied. "He listened to Ramla
when he would not listen to either of us."

Regina twitched her whiskers. "Males; why do
they never listen?" She coughed elegantly. "Well, I'm sure
he would not have listened to her if we hadn't warmed him up,
hmm?"

Pon-chan looked at her sardonically. "I'm
sure," she replied; agreement was the safest way to answer cats, but she
could see by the flattened ears that Regina knew Pon-chan was mocking
her.

"Just you wait, long-toothed one," Regina purred,
electing to ignore the parts of the conversation she did not care for and wash a paw instead.
"It is close now. There is nothing that can be done to avoid it."

Pon-chan twitched her own whiskers thoughtfully as
she glanced at the door she had just closed. "I know. My
question is only, will they listen to us at last?"

-o-o-o-o-

Pet catalog & notes:
- Gamara - A word I created from
  combining "kumara," meaning "son," and "Garuda."
  According to Indian legend, all birds are descended from Garuda and
  bear great hatred for their enemies the snakes. [sweatdrop]
  Not to be confused with Gamera; and honestly it's nothing to do with
  Genjuu no Seiza...
- Ramla - means "prophetess"
  in Swahili.
  Think Tia Dalma meets Galadriel.
- Harisha & Devika Chetan - I
  never come out and say it but they're twins, their father was Indian, and their
  mother was African. They were raised mostly East Coast US by their
  mother and their stepfather- who is a rich, eccentric
  anthropologist.
- Yes, that was a Phantom of
  the Opera reference in there.
- Asiatic wolf - the Asiatic, or
  Indian,
  Wolf is slightly smaller than it's
  EuroAmerican counterpart, the
  Grey Wolf. The wolf is a sacred
  animal of the Turkic peoples, considered to represent honor and
  thought to be an ancestor of their people. Wolves mate for
  life, though not with such enthusiastic single-mindedness as I've
  depicted.
- Regina - The
  Siamese queen had made several appearances by this point... btw,
  "queen" is to "tom" as "bitch" is to "dog." (how's that for an
  SAT question??) Regina means "queen" in Latin.
-o-O-o-
- 12
- 13
- 14
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