Define Arc | By : BlackberryPatch Category: +M to R > Pet Shop of Horrors Views: 8622 -:- 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. | |
"Too long you've wandered in winter,
far from my fathering gaze.
Wildly your mind beats against me,
you resist,
yet- the soul obeys."
-- 
The Phantom of the 
Opera
		
 
Africa sweltered around him as the Count D sat on the edge of the bed 
and peered down at the 
woman who lay there.  She was old, and her body had recently become frail.  But she 
was not as old as he was.
"I am not so frail as you either," she said, her voice 
still strong; her ability to pick up on exactly what he was thinking, speak it 
aloud and name his weakness without even knowing it herself was as strong as 
ever too.  He gave no outward sign of his annoyance- no sign that anyone 
else would have read, but she saw through him the way earth sees through 
fire.  She laughed, a bottomless, rumbling sound that quickly became a 
deep, hacking cough.  
He sniffed imperiously and flicked invisible dust specks 
from his cloak.  "Frailty would appear to be a matter of opinion."
Too worn to laugh more, she still smiled widely.  
"Opinion? Has the word changed since I lay down upon this bed?"
He frowned.  "Too many things change.  Too 
quickly."
She turned toward him, touching his hand softly. "Change 
is the nature of the beast."
His lip curled, but there was an emptiness that echoed in 
his eyes.  "There are things that do not change."  His hand curled 
into a fist as his expression darkened in anger.  "Humans do not change."
Ramla sighed.  "That is not the kind of change I 
speak of."  She was silent for a long moment, before snorting 
incredulously, the force of it shaking her slight frame.  "Easier enough to 
try to hold back the tide than to speak sense to you," she continued, and, with 
finality, "Change is the purpose for which life exists."
His eyes narrowed as he stared at something that was not 
there. "Purpose?"
"You do not know what you have wrought."  She spoke the words as if they 
were but part of some great incantation or mantra, but either she forgot the 
rest or there was no more, for her gaze grew confused and wandered before 
settling again on her guest.  She peered deeply into his eyes, noting how 
they matched her own in their mismatched-ness, and said with solemn gravity, "He 
is more than you will ever be."  She coughed again and smiled at him wryly.  
"See this is the difference between you and me- between men and women.  We 
know when it is our time and we leave.  You... you hang on until there is 
nothing left of you but ashes that pretend to keep living."  She frowned, 
murmuring again, unsure of the meaning of the words but sure of their truth, "He 
is more than you."
The Count stood from the bedside, irritated.  "How 
like a woman, to speak riddles and waste time."  
She laughed, softly.  "How like you to not understand 
the truth when it is before you."  She frowned and pointed at him 
imperiously.  "It is your fault.  This perversion- the distortion your 
work has become.  You started it.  Own to that, brother, and 
you will begin to salvage what you have almost destroyed through your attempting 
to hold onto it long past the time it should have passed into memory."  She thrashed in 
the bed, incoherent, other women coming into the room and crowding around her 
worriedly.  The Count retreated to stand by the wall and watch as the women 
implored Ramla to get well and to stay with them.  He wondered which was 
weaker- these people who begged from a goddess that was powerless, or the 
goddess for allowing herself to become so entangled.  Ramla's daughter 
appeared then, beside the bed, and she ordered the others out of the room.  
Reluctant though they were they went when the Ramla commanded- for this woman 
was the Ramla now, as she knelt beside her mother's bed and kissed the old 
woman's brow.  The old woman smiled and then her soul contracted, her body 
turned to dust that was quickly blown away, though there was no wind, to join 
with the dirt of all the world.  
The Count watched with interest, forgotten where he stood 
by the wall.  Ramla stood from where she had knelt beside the bed and 
looked at him.  She too was smiling, the same smile that the old woman had 
worn- a smile that was happy, and full of sorrow, and that understood all the 
foibles of humankind.  "I will go walking," she murmured, mostly to herself, "in 
awhile, perhaps in a month from now, I will find a girl, a child born of the 
earth."  Her eyes drifted over to the Count, and he was hard pressed to 
hold her gaze for he found himself looking into the soul of the Earth herself.  
"And I will know that she is my daughter."
"Fascinating," he replied.  "Well, I must be going.  
It was so nice talking with you; we must do this again.  Perhaps in another 
century?"
She ignored his words,  fixing him with her deep 
eyes.  "They are incomplete because you have made them that way.  You 
know what they lack, and only you can give it to them."  She nodded her 
head to him, then she was simply Ramla again, her eyes only as deep as the 
desert or the jungle- no longer the soul of the world- and she smiled tightly, a 
woman who had just lost her mother.  She moved past him to the outer doors 
and opened them to give her sad news to the women waiting there.
He raised his head and glowered at D, taking in the sight 
of his lover.  It was not a bad sight to wake up to but he frowned.  
"You have absolutely no right to look so well rested after last night."
D chuckled again, reaching out to brush Leon's shaggy hair 
back off his cheek.  "You had no right to look so perfectly delicious last 
night."
Leon turned into the touch and kissed the palm of D's 
hand.  D sighed, a soft exhalation of breath, and Leon had to fight the 
sudden urge to pull the man back down beside him and expand upon last night's 
entertainment.  D submitted to his kiss but pulled away with a smile.  
"I'll go start some breakfast."  He patted Leon's cheek and slipped out of 
the bed.
Leon groaned, falling back down on the sheets and burying 
his head under a pillow.
Leon pulled up and parked next to where Jill stood waiting 
for him, just outside a dilapidated apartment building.  "You're late."  Jill leveled serious eyes at 
him as 
he stepped out of his car.  "I was hoping to talk to you before we started, 
but I don't think we'll have time for it."  She was worrying a piece of 
string between her fingers but she let it fall to the ground as she quirked an 
amusedly annoyed eyebrow at him.  "I caught a ride with Stevens to get over 
here- you know how annoying he is- and it's all your fault." 
"Yeah, yeah," Leon grumbled as he combed a hand 
through his hair.  "So far this's been one of those days when staying 
in bed would have been better.  I was already running late when the Chief hit 
me with a crap load of paperwork that couldn't wait.  What've we got here?" 
"I was just going up but I thought I'd wait for you."  
She looked up at the building and shrugged. "Report was from the fifth floor.  Witness says 
guy was beating his girlfriend in the apartment next door then bam, he was 
dead."
Leon paused, shifting his gaze from the apartment building 
before them to his partner.  "Bam?  She shoot him?"
Jill shook her head.  "Gunshots weren't reported.  
I haven't heard anything else from CSU yet.  Shall we go up?"  He 
gestured Jill to precede him as they started for the elevator.
The fifth floor was quiet.  The door to 508 was open 
and Jill entered, observing the people within; an EMT was kneeling beside a 
girl who sat on a chair in the corner, a uniformed officer was helping a 
different woman in a coroner's jacket mark out the body, a crime scene photographer 
was finishing up his own work.  "Homicide," Jill announced them.  "What 
happened?"
The uniform nodded to them, coming over.  "Officer 
Henrick," he introduced himself.  "I was first on the scene.  
Responded to a 911 call from the neighbor, she said she heard loud voices 
arguing then the guy started screaming, then nothing."
The girl seated in the chair in the corner looked up.  
She had rich, coffee dark skin and a mass of black hair that tumbled around her 
abused face.  Her eyes were large in her face and, combined with the hair, 
gave her an innocent, vulnerable look.  Bruises were already developing and she was going to have a particularly 
splendid shiner by tomorrow but the look in her eyes was coldly evaluative when 
she looked at the officers who crowded the room.  They were eyes that were 
not trusting of police or government officers of any kind.  Leon guessed 
she was a recent immigrant; she had a way of watching everything around her that 
seemed to advertise that she wasn't quite comfortable in this world yet.
Jill approached the girl, to ask her some questions, while Leon 
crouched by the coroner and took 
in the corpse.  The body lay face down, the back of its head bloody.  
There were lacerations, like claw marks, across the back of its shoulders.  "Got anything yet?" he asked the coroner.
"Cause of death was brain damage from a series of puncture wounds to the the head." She shrugged 
and wrote on a clipboard she was holding.  "Looks like something bit him; 
could have been a Rottweiler maybe.  I've never seen anything like it 
though."
About to school his expression into careful neutrality, 
Leon realized he didn't have to.  "A Rottweiler?" he asked calmly.  
"What makes you say that?"
She gestured with the end of her pen.  "It bit him 
here, just above the ears.  The canines were long and sharp enough to 
pierce the bone and the jaw was short and rounded.  A Rottweiler might be 
physically capable of delivering the bite but it's not something I've ever seen 
a dog do before.  Could have been a bear, I suppose, or a large cat- like a 
tiger."  Leon raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed shortly.  "I 
know, crazy right?  Where would it come from?  It's just, I've seen 
dog attacks before, but never anything like this.  The creature jumped on 
his back and pinned him to the ground."  She wrote on her clipboard again.  
"The witness hasn't been very forthcoming but the building doesn't allow pets, 
for whatever that's worth.  I'll know more when we get the body back to the 
lab."  Leon nodded to her and she motioned to Henrick.  The officer 
helped her bag the body while Leon went to see how Jill was getting on with the 
witness.
Apparently not very well.  "Look Maria, you're sure you don't remember anything else?"  
Jill tried not to scowl at the young woman but her patience was thin.
The young woman, Maria, glared at Jill hatefully.  "I tell you, I 
do not know what happen!  He hit me, then he fall over, dead."  Her 
eyes shifted to take in Leon but she said nothing more.
Jill rolled her eyes.  "Well that's helpful, thanks."  
She turned to Leon with a frustrated, helpless gesture.
Leon touched Jill's shoulder and said to the seated woman, 
"Did you go anywhere today?"
She watched him with guarded hostility.  "No."
He nodded, letting his eyes drift around the room.  
"How about yesterday?"  His eyes were caught by a small stone figure 
sitting on the coffee table and he went to pick it up.  It was the figure 
of a cat, tail curled around large paws and broad head crouched over powerful 
shoulders, its empty stone eyes watching him carefully.  Holding the figure 
in both hands he turned to Maria.
Her eyes were frightened now and she answered reluctantly, "Sí; 
yes.  I go shopping, 
yesterday."
He nodded, his thumb stroking the stone creature's 
forehead.  "Where did you come here from?"  She 
didn't answer at first, watching him warily.  "What country did you come 
here from?" he repeated.
"Bolivia," she answered quietly.  "With my mother, we 
come."  Her wary fear was verging toward anger again.
"Bolivia," Leon repeated. and smiled darkly.  He held 
up the figure.  "Did you bring this with you from Bolivia or did you buy it 
yesterday?  What is it; a jaguar?"
She slipped out of the chair and ducked behind it putting 
it between her and Leon, her fear back full force.  "I 
did not do it!  I did not do anything wrong!"  Her face was 
desperate and drawn, older bruises than the ones from today's incident showed in 
her eyes even though they were faded from her skin.
"I know," he said simply.  She was watching him with 
a strange sense of wonder, and he could tell Jill was watching him too.  
"When you went shopping, did you go to Chinatown?" Maria nodded slowly.  "Maybe went to a pet shop?" Leon suggested; 
she just watched him, but he knew he'd guessed it right.  "Look," Leon 
continued, "If you signed anything just do what it says, okay?"  Jill 
scowled at him, but her phone rang and she stepped away to answer it.  He 
smiled tightly at Maria; she stared at him in wonder and he held out the statue 
to her. "Take good care of it."
She took it from him, cradling it against her body.  
"Sí," she murmured.  "Gracias."  He 
stepped away but she caught his hand.  "Mil gracias."  Her eyes 
searched his for something and she pulled her hand back to hold it protectively 
around the jaguar figure.
Leon smiled at her, more warmly than he had before.  He glanced at his partner; 
still on the phone, she was listening a lot and answering in quick, short syllables 
which was not a good 
sign. It was probably the chief with yet another case for them.  For 
some reason the unusually cool weather of the past few weeks had the murderers out in droves 
and he and Jill had been working overtime since the beginning of the year.  
He hoped this didn't go on much longer; after only a month of it he was ready to 
call it quits.  He wandered toward the door, scanning the apartment even 
though he'd already mentally dismissed this case as solved.  Distracted, he almost ran into the man coming in through the 
apartment door.
"Detective Orcot I presume?" the man said, untangling 
himself from Leon.  "I've been trying to hunt you down all day."  Leon glared at the man out of habit, but the glare 
narrowed and focused as he took in the other man's thin smile and the too sharp, too clean 
lines of his suit that almost screamed federal agent.  The man was older 
and he had an intense, angry look to him that Leon felt was bound to have pissed 
him off even if he didn't already dislike the man just for being a fed.
"Presuming is better than assuming," Leon responded 
absently but kept walking past the man.  "But it still won't get you 
anywhere in this town."
He didn't stop walking till he was out of the building and back at his car.  
He didn't have long to wait before Jill joined him, rubbing her temples.  "Three guesses who was on the 
phone."
Leon growled softly as he slid in behind the steering 
wheel.  "Where to?"
Jill sighed as she shut her door.  "Follow this road 
out to the light and make a left.  We should be able to see the lights from 
here."
Leon growled again but followed her directions.  They 
soon found themselves pulling into the cordoned off parking lot of a 
supermarket.  The flashing lights of the EMS already on the scene had lead 
the way, as Jill had promised, and as Leon parked the car he caught sight of the 
small, pale swash of cloth that covered the victim's body from the curious 
onlookers.  Great; the victim was a child.  He rubbed his face; some 
days it really didn't pay to get out of bed.
"It has been quite awhile, 
		Count." 
Damask greeted D eagerly, and D 
		smiled softly as the stallion's lips tickled over his hand.  "After 
		what happened last time they brought you here, I thought they 
		would most likely never return you to this city."
Damask snorted and tossed his 
		head, neck arched proudly.  "They cannot resist the money they 
		will make with me.  I come here to show the mares the foals I can 
		give them."  He pawed the ground excitedly, turning about 
		and half rearing in the 
		confines of the stall. D placed a calming hand on his shoulder and 
		the stallion settled, shaking his head, his long mane settling over his 
		dappled shoulders.  "I apologize, Count.  The mare at the 
		end of the row is near her time."  He raised his head over the 
		barred door and his nostrils flared as he scented the breeze.  
		"She is quite lovely." 
D stroked the stallion's shoulder 
		as he continued to smile.  "You think they are all lovely."
"And I mean it every time." 
		The stallion swished his tail.  "But you did not come here 
		to discuss my conquests."  
"No, I did not."  He sighed, 
		his hand pausing in its soothing motion.
Damask nudged his hand again, 
		whickering softly, ears curving forward to focus on D.  "What is 
		wrong?  You have found that which you were seeking when last we 
		spoke.  Is it not what you truly desired?"
"That is not the problem."  D 
		smiled warmly, secretly, and Damask flicked his tail in approval.  
		"I don't suppose you ever have... doubts, do you my friend?"
One liquid brown eyes settled on 
		D's face as the stallion huffed in a thoughtful breath.  
		"Doubts?  Not the kind that would trouble a god, for certain.  
		I doubt the patch of grass I eat is the sweetest in the field, which is 
		why I sample them all; I doubt the stable boy will allow me to while 
		away the entire day chasing mares, which is a pastime I would prefer." 
		He stepped away, moving around the stall before stepping back and 
		lipping D's hand worriedly.  "What troubles you my god?  It 
		seems a hurt most grievous. I would give you aid, if I am able." 
		
D sighed, smiling softly.  
		"Thank you for your desire to be of service, but I suppose it is 
		something I must figure out for myself.  I also did not come here 
		to trouble you with my burdens."  He stroked the stallion's muscled shoulder and 
		allowed true humor to creep into his smile.  "What kind of god 
		would I be if I asked that of you?"  
The horse tossed his head. 
		"The god of those who have asked for that and more from you."
D felt the smile slip away from 
		him.  "It is only justified.  I have sworn myself to the 
		cause."  
Damask whinnied quiet laughter. 
		"I am not the one to talk to about the depths of the cause.  I 
		have not lost too much.  I have lost, true, but I have also 
		gained."  He shrugged, the motion rippling down his shoulders.
		 "Some days I lose more, some days I gain more.  It is good 
		to see you again Count.  Do not stay away long."  
D nodded, rising to take his 
		leave.  "I will try not to."
-o-o-o-o-
"No, no, it goes like this."  Chris 
		took the rope and undid the knot, retying it.
Ari frowned at him.  She 
		hadn't commented on Chris' newfound tongue, for which he was thankful.  
		"I don't see how that's better," she said doubtfully.  Leiella, 
		peeking out at him from the bag strung across her mistress' chest, also 
		regarded him with reservations.
"It won't pull so tightly," Chris 
		informed her.
She snorted at him, laughing 
		uproariously for a moment before he could get her to explain what had 
		amused her.  "You are such a know it all," she admonished him, but 
		her eyes were sparkling.  "Okay, let's go get Faolan and Sdhorim.  
		Bruno is waiting by the door.  You left the note?"
He scowled at her.  "Who 
		sounds like a know it all now?"  She laughed as she moved off into 
		the shop and Chris put the explanatory note he'd written on the tea 
		cart.  He turned quickly to go to the front door where Ari and her 
		dogs, along with the two wolfhounds, waited for him to join them for a 
		trip to the park and didn't notice the paper's fluttering up to fall 
		over the side of the cart and come to rest against the wall.
Emrys flitted into the front 
		room, perching on the back of the chaise.  Dark eyes scanned the 
		room, missing no detail as it listened to the sound of Chris' laughter 
		as he and Ari walked the dogs.  Emrys' eyes flared slightly with 
		some internal light and it was not to anyone in the room that Emrys 
		spoke when it murmured, "He is coming."
Honlon stirred in her rooms.  
		Junrei blinked slowly, blearily; Kanan ground her teeth in frustration; 
		Shuko folded her hands in a silent prayer.
"Leon?"
He looked up 
		from where he sat at his desk, head bent furiously over the report he 
		was working on, and blinked slowly as he took in his partner.  "Yeah?"  
		He put down his pen and cracked his neck beofre he leaned back and gave 
		her his full attention.  She took a deep breath and was 
		silent for a long moment.  Leon leaned in 
		closer to her, saying worriedly, "Jill?"
She waved him off.  "It's 
		not..."  She took a deep breath.  "There really isn't an easy 
		way to say this, so I'll just out with it.  I'm transferring."
Leon stared at her, numb.  "What?"  
		He blinked as it sank in.  "Where to?"
She signed and sat in the chair in 
		front of his desk, not looking at 
		him.  "New York," she said quietly.
He scowled.  "This is about 
		that Harisha?  I hadn't thought you two were that serious."
Jill rolled her eyes.  
		"I knew you'd think that.  Please, my mother taught me better than 
		to uproot and move 
		across country for a boy."  She hedged.  "At least, 
		I'm not doing it for that one."  He waited.  "It's... Andrew."  She sighed 
		again and buried her face in her hands.  "I thought... I thought 
		that since I was over him, it would be okay, but I keep seeing him 
		everywhere, places we went, friends we had in common..."  Leon 
		touched her shoulder.
"That's still not the real 
		reason," he said, and he knew it was true.
She nodded but was silent.  
		Leon's eyes bored into her and she sighed.  "I... There is something else, 
		but it hasn't exactly happened yet, so I don't want to jinx anything.  
		If it happens, I'll tell you."
"I'm going to miss you," Leon 
		said, and surprised himself by not only meaning it but really meaning 
		his easy acceptance of her shattering announcement after the initial 
		shock had faded. He'd partnered, briefly, with others during 
		his years on the force but Jill had always been his best friend and 
		really the one he worked with the best.  He was, he discovered, happy 
		for her.  And really... that was just one less thing tying him to this town.
"I know," she replied, her voice 
		quiet.  Her eyes followed him, but they were hooded with the reason 
		she wouldn't give him, and, as he watched her, he wondered if he 
		was the reason she was leaving.  He dismissed it almost as he 
		thought it, but he couldn't shake the feeling he was right as he watched 
		her get up and walk out of the station.
"Leon!"  The chief's angry 
		shout summoned him back to the present.
D raised his face to the winter wind, letting 
		it slip through the strands of his hair; the wind was cold to balance 
		the sunlight shining warm on his back.  Birds chirped in the stillness 
		of that cold; human voices broke the stillness as well, though not many.  
		D's eyes were closed, to better absorb the sounds of nature in the park, 
		so the young lady trying to get his attention had to resort to other 
		methods than walking up and standing in front of him.
A loud clear bark caused D to open his eyes, 
		and he settled his gaze easily on Annette, smiling.  "Hello."  
		He held out his hands to her and she lay her head in them, sighing in 
		bliss.
"Hello, Count."  Jeffrey came up behind 
		Annette, smiling hesitantly.
"And hello to you as well Jeffrey."  D 
		paid his full attention to Annette before he looked up at Jeffrey.  
		The last time they had met had been under rather inauspicious 
		circumstances, but Jeffrey looked well.
"Doesn't he look well?" Annette observed 
		happily, her tail beating back and forth.  "I think he is doing 
		very well."  She turned her gaze back to her master.  
		"Perhaps you could speak with him?"
He touched the collie's long nose.  
		"What need should I speak with him if he is doing fine?"
She sat down and yawned.  "Not for him; 
		for you."   
D sighed.
"Are you alright Count?"  Jeffrey sat on 
		the other end of the bench, still hesitant but warm and open.
D sighed again. "I suppose.  But, 
		perhaps not."  He 
		looked out, into the sky.  "I am... looking for something."  
		His eyes grew distant.  "I have been looking for it for quite 
		awhile.  I 
		thought... perhaps I had found it, but there is someone I need to ask- 
		he can tell me if what I found is what I truly sought." His 
		eyes dropped to Annette and he warmed his hands in her think fur.  
		"But first I suppose I need to find him; Grandfather," he continued mostly to 
		himself.  "If he could just tell me, I'd know if..."
Jeffrey laughed, soft and relaxed, and D became 
		aware again of his audience.  "Count it sounds like you already found 
		whatever it is you were looking for."  D blinked as he took in 
		those words, that seemed to roll through him with something deeper than 
		their simple meaning.  Jeffrey's voice was quiet but clear, the 
		voice of someone who knew of what it was he spoke.  "Sounds to 
		me like you've been looking for it for so long, now that you've found it 
		you don't know what to do with it."  He stood and ruffled Annette's 
		fur as she jumped up beside him, eager to continue their jog.  
		"That's what you really need to figure out- how your life is going to 
		change now that you don't need to search anymore."
Leon pulled the door open roughly 
		as he entered the chief's office. "Yeah?" he began without preamble, 
		not bothering to conceal his irritation.  "What is it?"
The chief frowned at him.  
		"Detective Orcot," he said evenly, shooting a glare at Leon as if hoping 
		it would remind him to mind his manners.  "This is Agent Howell of 
		the FBI.  I believe you've met?"  He gestured to the man 
		sitting across from him, who rose and met Leon's belligerent gaze.
Leon shrugged.  "Not that I 
		remember."  He nodded to Howell, with a tight "Agent."  
		Turning back to the chief he asked, "Can I go now?"
"No, dammit Leon, you may 
		not!"  The chief ran a hand over his face in an attempt to regain 
		his composure.  "You will be working with Agent Howell for the time 
		being.  He, has an interest in some of the cases you've been 
		working."  His eyes darted between the two men standing before him, 
		and Leon suddenly felt his hackles go up.  
"Really."  Leon bared his 
		teeth in a smile.  "What cases would those be?"
Howell smiled as well, a mere 
		thinning of his lips that curled the corner of his mouth.  The 
		gesture was familiar and Leon suddenly did remember meeting the man 
		earlier- or 
		rather, seeing the man, as he'd brushed by too quickly to call it an 
		introduction.
"I think that will become clear as 
		we discuss the matter, Detective. If you would care to remove this 
		conversation to another room?  We don't need to bother the chief 
		any longer."
"Sure, why not."  Leon eyed the man 
		warily as he led the way to an empty interrogation room.  "What'dya 
		want?" he belatedly tacked on an, "Agent," to the end of the question as 
		he regarded Howell with poorly concealed annoyance.
Howell smiled.  "Sit down 
		detective."  When Leon didn't move, he shrugged.  "I have been 
		tracking a certain serial killer for most of my career."  He placed 
		several files on the table.  "A killer you have also encountered, 
		it seems."  
Despite his attempt to hold on to 
		his annoyance, Leon was interested.  He'd managed to pin down a 
		serial killer that had escaped capture by the feds for decades?  He reached out and opened the top folder.  The face of 
		the man whose photograph lay on the top of the file was intimately 
		familiar to him.
He knew Howell was waiting for a 
		big reaction.  It was more the fact that there was no reaction left 
		in him rather than a desire to deny the agent that had him calmly 
		raising his eyes to meet Howell's and saying firmly, "I have never 
		investigated this man for any crime."
Howell smirked.  "Have a 
		short memory do you?"  He flicked open two more files and shoved 
		them across the table.
Leon looked down at two of the 
		first cases he'd investigated after he'd met D.  
		"No, I don't."  His fingers absently traced through the lines of 
		his report on the man eating rabbits.  "You have a case of 
		mistaken identity.  This," he picked up the photograph from the 
		first folder, the picture of D's father, and thrust it at Howell, "is 
		not the same man."
To his surprise Howell laughed.  
		"You think because he hasn't aged visibly in twenty years that it's a 
		different man?"
"No," Leon gritted his teeth.  
		"I know it's a different man because I've met him."  
		Howell was staring at him, the stare of unbelief, but Leon stopped 
		himself from saying more.  What part of what he knew was something he 
		wasn't supposed to tell?  Did he really even know anything, or just 
		shadows of things?  "It's not the same man," he repeated and 
		definitively shut the folders.  "Now, you gonna limp back to 
		Washington with your tail between your legs cause this was a wild goose 
		chase?"
The agent was watching him, 
		carefully, in a way that Leon really didn't care for, when suddenly he 
		smiled and laughed.  "He got to you," Howell said knowingly.  
		"I should recognize it.  It happened to me once.  Look," he 
		leaned forward, but Leon, startled by his words, stepped back.  
		"You don't have to protect him."  His eyes were knowing and Leon 
		felt himself being pulled in.  "Sooner or later he's going to make 
		a choice, and he's not going to choose you."  He pushed the files 
		back across the table toward Leon.  "Help me catch him."
Leon stared at him.  "Look, 
		are you stupid or something?  How many times do I have to tell you, 
		this,"  he picked up the photograph again, "is not the same 
		man?"
Howell's expression grew dark.  
		"If you will not cooperate, I will have to force your cooperation."
Leon leaned back against the wall.  
		"There is nothing you can do that will convince me you're less of an 
		idiot."
"I'll have your badge officer!"  
		Howell was on his feet now, glaring fiercely at Leon.
Leon glared back.  "Taking it 
		doesn't prove that you're not wrong."
A shudder ran through the room and 
		it took Leon a moment to realize that it was actually the building 
		itself that had shuddered.  The lights flickered.  Howell 
		threw open the door and walked out into the squad room, to a window.  
		"He's here," he observed.
Leon looked out the window to see 
		that the skies were dark with the wings of birds.
D opened the door to the shop and 
		stepped inside.  The dimness was warmer than the chill outside air, 
		but there was a strange quiet over the shop that disturbed D's usual 
		feeling of homecoming.  Animals moved restlessly in the dim light.
"Can you feel it?" a voice asked 
		out of the darkness and D froze where he stood.
"Father."  D stepped around 
		to the table by the chaise and lit the lamp there.  In its sudden 
		light he could see his father sitting in one of the chairs across from 
		him.  Their eyes met, flickering gold and violet in the leaping 
		light.  D glanced outside; the sky was dark.  "Yes," he 
		answered quietly.
His father laughed quietly and did 
		not rise from his chair.  "He's here," he observed.  "It's 
		time."
The door opened with a clattering 
		chime that was startlingly loud in the quiet shop.  Leon entered, 
		breathing hard.  His eyes were drawn immediately to the shadowed 
		figure in the chair.  He stepped forward, then stopped, his eyes 
		drifting to rest on D still standing by the table.  "D," he said, 
		the name an affirmation and a question.
D's father laughed. "Slipping 
		are you?"
"He was here when I arrived," D 
		answered Leon's question, "only moments ago."
"Ah, and have you counted your 
		charges since?" D's father smiled predatorily.
"Chris," D breathed, his hands 
		curling into fists as his heart beat furiously.  He had no other 
		charge that would bring such a sneer to his father's face.  He 
		should have checked on Chris the moment he returned, he berated himself, 
		but he had been distracted by the way his father had appeared.  He 
		was so different- changed somehow, subdued- and even with his 
		insinuating words, D felt a thread of doubt that the man sitting before 
		him could have harmed Chris.
"Chris is not here." Pon-chan 
		slunk out from under the chaise to level glaring eyes at D's father.
Leon's hand on his shoulder 
		brought D back to the moment.  "Chris is fine," he said.
D shook his head. "He's gone!"
"I know." Leon glanced at Pon-chan.  
		"I heard her.  I mean your dad didn't have anything to do with it."
D stared at him.  Leon 
		shifted uncomfortably when he realized another pair of mismatched eyes 
		was also fixed on him.  "You can hear her words?"  D's father 
		rose from his chair, looking disturbed by this information.
D glanced at Pon-chan for 
		confirmation of Leon's claim, but she only sat down and stared at him 
		mutely.  D turned his attention to Leon, asking, "How can you know that he didn't 
		take Chris?"
Leon's eyes narrowed. "He can't 
		touch Chris.  Your grandfather promised me."
It seemed an incredible promise 
		but D believed him, believed the confidence in Leon's eyes.  His 
		father sighed in annoyance and turned back to them, but words he would 
		have spat died on his lips when he raised his eyes to the shop's door at 
		the sound of the chime.  A man stood there and Leon scowled at him.  
		"No way he followed me," he grumbled to himself.  "Damn feds."
D's father also looked at the man 
		with familiarity.  "Ah, my own devoted flotsam."  The malicious curl to 
		his lip sent a shiver running down D's spine.  "You finally caught up to me Vesca."
-o-o-o-o-
		Pet catalog:
Jaguar: The most 
			powerful feline in the Western Hemisphere, the jaguar is considered 
			a near threatened species; its current range is from northern Mexico, 
			with sightings as far north as New Mexico and Arizona, to northern Argentina.  The 
			cat prefers dense forest or jungle habitat and is an ambush 
			predator; in a way unique among big cats, the jaguar prefers to kill its prey 
			by employing its powerful jaws to bite through the temporal bone, 
			piercing the animal's brain.  While it most closely resembles 
			the leopard physically, the jaguar's habits are more like those of the tiger, 
			including its affinity for water.  Compared to the other big 
			cats, wild jaguars attack humans only with extreme rarity.  
			They are featured prominently in the art and mythology of nearly all 
			major Mesoamerican cultures.
Damask: Damask is an 
			Arabian stallion, rose grey in color and trained for endurance 
			riding.  He first appeared in the story "Damask."
Annette: Annette is a 
			sable rough coat collie. She was placed with her current master, 
			Jeffrey, by D.  First mentioned in "Dearth," she appeared in 
			"Disease."
Leiella & Bruno: 
			Leiella the Chihuahua puppy and Bruno the English Mastiff belong to 
			the girl Ari who visits the shop often. They first appeared in 
			"Disease."
Faolan & Sdhorim: A 
			pair of Irish wolfhounds that live at the shop.  Faolan is more 
			sociable than Sdhorim and has become friends with Ari and her dogs. 
			The pair first appeared in "Disease."
Emrys: A mysterious 
			Welsh dragon who has helped Chris. It first appeared in "Draconigenae." 
			
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