Revenge Exchange

A/N: Hiya! I just wanted to thank TrulyWished and Silversin for reviewing…OOOOkay. This chapter is where the action really starts. Remember the guys plotting to abduct Chris and kill Leon? Well, they show up in this chapter. Just wanted to let you know that there are some disturbing things in the next chapter, but this one should be okay.

Warnings:

FL--Foul Language

V--Violence, Explosions

Chapter 3: Firework Abduction

“…make him an offer he can’t refuse…”
-- Mario Puzo, “The Godfather”

The streets were as crowded as he had predicted they would be. As he and Chris walked to the pet shop to meet up with D and his grandfather from the parking spot they’d been forced to take on a street six blocks away, they were jostled this way and that. Eventually, Leon just slung the boy onto his back, because he’d lost sight of him twice in the sea of people. Finally, the red pillars out front of D’s family shop came into view over the heads of the hundreds of people taking advantage of the sunny morning. Raising a hand, Leon pushed the door open, the tiny, familiar bell jingling overhead.

Chris clambered down from his back, and they entered the parlor. D was not there. Instead, a very strange-looking creature that would have been a fox but for the fact that it had multiple tails sat on the couch facing them. Its strangely white fur shone in the light from the lamps, and it regarded them with eyes that looked far too intelligent. Chris went to sit next to the creature. “Ten-chan,” he asked, “where’s the Count?” After a brief pause, during which the animal made a series of yips and barks, the boy laughed. “Does it really take him that long to dress?” Another yip, followed by a rakish tilt of the fox creature’s head made it seem as if the thing had answered.

Hell, Leon thought, I guess I can believe that…after all, I’ve seen some really weird shit in this place. After a moment, he realized that the fox-thing was looking at him. If it could talk, he wondered, what would it say? The little fur-ball jumped down off of the couch, and trotted over to where he was standing, winding itself around his legs in a manner reminiscent of a cat. Leon smiled. It was…cute. “What’s his name again, Chris?” He asked as he crouched, holding his hand out the way one does to a dog.

“That’s Ten-chan.”

“Cool.” Leon said as the little guy nipped at his hand playfully. He laughed, and watched for a moment longer before petting the creature. It immediately made a noise that sounded almost like a purr, but not quite. “He’s cute.”

“And he seems to like you, Detective.” Leon started at the sound of D’s voice, which sounded a bit disbelieving. He turned to see the apparently freshly dressed man. D was wearing one of his dress-things, like usual, but the sleeves were long enough to cover his hands. There were large red chrysanthemums embroidered over the heavy black silk, and a thick red wool coat draped over D’s arm. His nails and lips were painted red as well, and he was smiling. Leon caught himself staring, and quickly covered for it by standing, and greeting the shopkeeper rather inarticulately.

As he rose from his crouched position, he stammered, “Uh…hiya, D,” and shoved his hands into his pockets. Glancing down when he felt something against his leg, he saw that Ten-chan was pawing at his pant leg, obviously wanting to be held. He reached down, gently lifting the animal from the floor before cradling it against his chest. Those too-intelligent eyes looked at him, and the little animal seemed to be smiling as it nuzzled the underside of his chin with the tip of its nose. When he looked back up at D, those red lips were frowning, and his dual-colored eyes were narrowed at the fox Leon held.

“Ten-chan,” D said sternly, “I believe that you should go back to your room and stop causing trouble.” The fox creature whined, but then began wiggling until Leon put him down. When Ten-chan had trotted down the hallway to the back of the shop, D made an annoyed noise in his throat. “He is always causing some kind of mischief.” Leon did not understand what D meant by this, but he did not ask. If he had learned one thing in this shop, it was that the fewer questions he asked, the better. Well, at least that was the case with some things.

Chris got up from the couch, and the three of them walked out of the shop, D locking up behind himself. Once again, they were swept up in the gaggle of people, Chris pulling them every which way. After about three and a half hours of this, D appeared rather harassed, though Leon thought he looked unusually fancy today in that red coat, its sleeves just as long as those of his dress…thing. Every now and again, the Chinese man steered them to a particular area, to look at something he found to be uncommonly pretty, or rare.

Chris was amazed by a display of paintings that were of dragons and phoenixes. “They’re beautiful!” he exclaimed, and D smiled at him, explaining that the elderly woman who sat knitting in the corner of the booth was the artist. Her paintings, he said, seemed almost to move at times. This, of course, made the boy stare hard at them, trying to catch the mythical beasts in flight. Leon suspected D of trickery, but he admired him a little for it…that was a clever way to get some rest.

As noon approached, they went to scour the area for some type of lunch. Once they had attained grilled vegetables for D, teriyaki beef on a stick for Leon, and some noodles for Chris, they found an empty stretch of bench to sit on and eat. D nibbled at the vegetables delicately, saving the carrots for last, since they were the sweetest. Leon wolfed down the beef, and being the first one finished, he watched the other two. Chris wasn’t quite as messy with his food as Leon would have been, given noodles. He did slurp a bit though, and Leon laughed as one of the long noodles slapped his cheek.

When D finished his vegetables, he dabbed at his mouth with a paper napkin, and looked at Chris, who was still slurping his noodles. “Christopher, I will have to teach you to use chopsticks, I think…” he said after another of the wormlike noodles smacked the boy on the end of his nose. Leon held back a laugh, but it came out as a choked sound instead. D cast a sidelong glance at him, and then reached out to grasp his chin. When Leon tried to pull away, D said, “Keep still. You have teriyaki sauce on your face, Detective.” The napkin wiped away the sticky sweet sauce, and finally, D’s hand released his chin.

Leon’s mind was nearly reeling with the domesticity of the moment. Before he could comment on how it had almost been nice, Chris was finished with his noodles, and had collected the garbage. They were off again, weaving in and out of hundreds of people in the festival area, trying to get to the shop, where they would store a few things that Chris had gathered through the course of the day. He had won a brilliantly orange koi fish playing one of the ring-tossing games, and he also had a large bag of popcorn that he hadn’t finished. From there, the plan was to make their way to the main street, where they could watch the fireworks and the dragons go by when dusk fell.

As D unlocked the door, there was a loud crash, like the breaking of something very expensive. The Chinese man’s eyes widened, and he rushed into the place, flipping light switches and looking around in a panicked state. Leon followed quickly, only to see the man on his knees, cradling the remains of what appeared to be a Ming vase. And sitting amidst the shards of porcelain, there was a cat. D looked at the creature, and a silent communication seemed to pass between them. The cat—obviously a stray—approached the shopkeeper, and licked his hand. It was almost like the thing was apologizing.

Dropping the vase, D picked up the cat. He peered into enormous emerald-green eyes, and one hand ruffled the ginger-colored fur. The feline purred loudly. “Well,” the slender man said as the cat sank its claws into the wool of his coat sleeve, “At least you were not harmed. You really should be more careful in a new place.” Ten-chan appeared out of nowhere, and D set the kitten down. “This is…what is your name, dear?” The tiny critter made a mewing noise, and D let out a little giggle. “This is Cordelia, Ten-chan. Can you take her to the back, please?” The fox creature gave a yip, and began nudging the cat toward the door at the rear of the room as D cleaned up the remains of the vase.

Leon was nonplussed. From everything he had seen today, it was altogether possible that D and Chris could actually communicate with the animals here. D politely excused himself, going to put Chris’s fish into a tank. When he got back, that strange goat thing that always hung around Chris was with him. After D put Chris in charge of Tot-chan, and they went out into the street again.

--

In spite of the claustrophobic conditions, D smiled. The crowd was awed at the appearance of a fifty-foot-long dragon, all in crimson with gold flashing from the tips of its scales, enormous eyes like sparkling green jade, and many, many legs. Inside the dragon were no fewer than twenty people, each of them wearing blood red and gold flowing pants, with bells on their ankles. He had watched them practice in the park for months. The men and women chosen to guide the dragon down the street were so well trained that the thing seemed to float, as if skimming just above the ground, but without the aid of wings.

They had, in the hour that they waited, somehow managed to work their way to the very front of the crowd, and when D glanced down, he saw the lights of sparklers reflected in Christopher’s wide, blue eyes. The boy watched the procession with a strangely respectful kind of awe, only occasionally tugging at Leon’s sleeve to point out something that he found to be particularly interesting. If there had been any question in D’s mind before, he was certain now that this had been a good thing for the boy. He had been in serious need of culture, and it was about time he got some.

One glance at the elder Orcot, however, did strange things to D’s brain. Even though Christopher’s childish wonder and quietude beyond his age had been a surprise, what he saw on Leon’s face surpassed that by leaps and bounds. There was a little smile that pulled small lines at the corners of the man’s lips, and he watched everything with eyes that took in each detail individually. Gold, red and green lights played over the slightly tanned skin of his face, and lent Leon the appearance of some otherworldly creature when a sparkler came within a few feet of him. And it was as he pondered these changes to the tall detective that those expressive blue eyes turned to look at D, a curious light in them.

As the dragon undulated past, it flashed its scales, illuminating the space around them. Leon’s skin seemed to glow the color of burnished bronze if it had been allowed life, and D found that he was quite struck with just how lovely the image was. The clamor around them faded to a faint jingling of bells, and hissing of sparklers. People’s voices somehow sounded like birds, and even that went away when the fireworks began bursting high above, showers of purple and silver reflected in light blue eyes that were fast hypnotizing D into movement.

--

Leon watched the way the skin of D’s face seemed to light up from the inside when that last enormous golden light exploded overhead…and he did not understand. Why could he not look away? Strange as it may seem, he held tightly to that image, letting it burn into his mind so that he would never forget it. He didn’t think, as his body turned.

Light showered down on them, green, red, pink, gold…

It took him a moment to realize just how close he was to D. Really, since Chris was closest to the security railing, they had been standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Now, facing D, he could make out how there were actually three different shades of gold, and four of purple in the other man’s eyes, and how utterly smooth the skin of his face was. He could see the stray strand of hair that had blown over the bridge of D’s nose, escaping from the rest of the shining silky mass. And he could see how those red-painted lips were parted, as if D were about to speak.

The realization that he was pondering anything at all about D’s lips hit him hard, and he knew that something was wrong in his head. It was the way the light played over that perfect skin. It was the way D’s eyes glowed, widening slightly on his approach, pulling him one step closer to the Chinese man. It was the lure of the exotic, the sheer beauty he saw…and he knew something was wrong with him, because he knew—without any clue of how to stop himself—that he was going to find out what D’s lipstick tasted like.

“Leon—“ D’s voice sounded breathless, and so close now…he could feel his eyes slide closed, and then warm breath spread over his mouth as D said, “—Behind you!” His eyelids tore open, only to see the other man’s face in an expression of horror, eyes wide and mouth dangling open. Leon’s body acted before he realized what was happening. Spinning around, he shoved D backward roughly, away from the perceived danger.

There, before him was a man with a gun, the piece leveled at his chest. He was enormous, with Leon only reaching the middle of his chest. Standing behind him, there was another hulking individual, a struggling child in his arms. Leon’s eyes widened in shock and sudden anger. “Chris!” Taking a step forward, he felt the barrel of the man’s gun on his chest.

“Now, now…” the gunman said mildly, “…don’t get antsy, Detective.”

Leon saw red. “Put him down, or so help me—“

One of the large, bald man’s eyebrows rose. “Or you’ll what? Kill me? Sorry, ass-wipe, but if I felt like it, I could waste you right now.” The muddy brown eyes regarding him as if he were an insect flicked over his shoulder. “And your girlfriend, too.”

D’s indignant voice came from behind Leon, “I beg your pardon?! You idiotic—“

“Orcot, you’d best tell your bitch to shut her mouth, before I ugly her up for you.” The man grunted, and there was another indignant squawk from D, something about foul language and the even more foul people that used it.

Leon looked quickly behind him. “Cool it, will you, D? I’m sure now is not the time to lecture a couple of cheap hoods on their manners.” The Chinese man seemed simultaneously contrite and offended, but nodded and said not another word. When Leon faced the men again, he said, “What do you want?”

A very unpleasant smile spread over the gunman’s face. “Max Turnbull sends his regards.”

After closing his eyes for a moment, Leon growled, “That son of a bitch…what does he want with me?” Turnbull was a small-time arms dealer who also dabbled in drugs, but he had friends. It had taken the better part of a year for Leon to infiltrate and take down a large number of the men in the Turnbull organization, a fact that had earned him some notoriety, and not a few enemies. The icing on the cake had been the lucky break that allowed him to take down the man himself before Leon had transferred into the homicide division. Now, though, he knew that Max Turnbull’s lawyer had found a loophole in some law or another, and the cocksucker was on the street again.

And now, they had Chris. Leon cursed under his breath. “Well? What does he want?”

The man handed him a folded piece of paper. “Be there, three hours from now. I would say come alone, but your bitch has seen us too. Looks like she’s coming along for the ride, Orcot. If you’re a good boy and don’t call your pig friends, then we’ll let the boy and the bitch live…maybe.” The man holding Chris then pulled out a small remote control, pressing a green button on the slick black plastic surface.

Leon heard D yell, and felt himself being thrown to the ground just as he heard the explosion. Asphalt and other debris flew through the air, peppering them as it landed. When he finally looked up, he saw only a set of red-clad arms shielding his head. That was when his body started shaking. He threw D’s arms away, and looked frantically around for his brother. The men had disappeared into the crowd, which had begun running away from the blast site. Something in the pit of his stomach burned, then began to churn. Leon didn’t know if he wanted to hit something, or vomit. He was gone. “God damn it…They thought of everything…” he whispered, staring at the place where he had last seen his little brother.

A hand lay itself on his arm, gentle and reassuring. Or at least he supposed it should be reassuring. D’s voice came from nearby, speaking softly. “Not everything, Detective. Tot-chan,” he said, “follow them.” A scurrying sound followed, and then he saw that the goat creature had taken off to the west. The hand on his arm tightened, gripping at him hard and pulling him to his feet. When D spoke again, it was with a very tightly controlled amount of anger. “Come, detective. We will see what we can do about this.”

--

D watched Leon worriedly. One moment, he stood, the next, he sat and muttered to himself. He still had not touched his tea. “Detective…” This brought forth no response. Getting to his feet, D approached the agitated man’s chair. “Detective,” he said again, and still, no response. Sighing in exasperation, he snapped, “Leon!” Blue eyes blinked, and looked up at him from where they had been staring at the floor. In a stern tone, D said, “Drink your tea.”

“But—“

One of D’s slender hands rose, cutting off any further addition to the man’s protests. In the same tone of command one might use for a disobedient dog, D snapped sharply, “This is not a discussion, Leon. Drink that tea, or I’ll make you wish you had.” The blonde man nodded shakily, and picked up the cup and saucer on the table before him. He sipped his tea quietly, not even complaining about the amount of sugar that D had heaped into the cup. Leon was still in shock, and he would not be any good to anyone unless D could find a way to calm him down. When there was no longer anything else in the cup, he took it from those shaking hands. At least he drank the stuff. It should calm him down.

It was almost painful to see Leon this way. The glassy eyes, the way his limbs seemed to have no strength, and that pitiful look on the detective’s face…it was as if he were not in his right mind any longer. The clock on the wall began to grate on his nerves. They only had two hours and forty-five minutes now, and before they went down to the docks (this was where the piece of paper he’d pried from Leon’s hand dictated the meeting would take place), Leon Orcot needed to be back to his normal self, or as close to it as possible.

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A/N: Well. There goes the third chapter. So…want more?