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Office Policy	By : Artemick Category: +G to L > Hunter x Hunter Views: 2719 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: HxH is not mine in any way, nor am I making money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
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                Leorio giggled, shoving his phone on top of the page Kurapica was reading.

Kurapica dropped the book on her lap. “Stop it.”

                “One more!”

                “That site is stupid. It shows how unable our culture is of supporting each other in a way that doesn’t encourage children to cope with stress through alcohol overdose and prescription abuse - ”

                “Listen.” He read off the screen: “So I was just driving high and I stopped to let a pinecone cross the road because I thought it was a hedgehog.”

                Kurapica smothered a smile.

               He scrolled down. “This on only screws 22-year-olds because older guys give up on life and get fat. I’m not fat, am I?”

                “You’re not 22?”

                He pinched her. Then he read: “I made the cop pinkie-promise not to arrest me if I failed the breathalyzer.”

                “That would never work.”

                “That’s why it’s funny.”

                Kurapica shoved him off. “I hate that site. It makes everyone seem degenerate.”

                “Or funny.”

                “No.”

                “Yes.”

                “N – “ She held up her hand and lifted her book on the other side, where she could read and he couldn’t reach.

                “My math teacher staples applications to Burger King on failed tests.”

                Kurapica snorted.

                The intercom called their row.

                Kurapica shut her book and pulled down her hem. She wore a neat grey suit and so far two people had assumed she was Leorio’s secretary. But Leorio took her purse, on the principle that no one’s boss carried her purse, so she must be a fancy Swedish executive. Kurapica wouldn’t fake the accent, but she stood patiently as he pretended to be her translator and ordered her an apple pie at the fast food counter “so that she could experience the culture.”

                At the end of the line, she tossed the pie wrapper and pulled her ticket out of the book pages.

                Leorio held her shoulder as she walked, so that he could get to the right place without looking up off his phone. “On the scale of ‘impaired judgment’ to ‘Mel Gibson’ how drunk are you? Answer: Toaster.”

                “Leorio. Get your ticket.”

                “Listen. You tried to highlight my face because you said I was important.”

                He leaned over and pointed at his cheek.

Kurapica kept a mechanical pencil and a highlighter tucked between her fingers to make notes as she read; she pulled the cap off and drew a small heart at the edge of his cheekbone.

“You know, this would glow in the dark if we had a black light.”

                “I didn’t know that worked.” She capped the pen and handed her ticket to the woman behind the counter. “I’m thinking of looking for another job.”

Kurapica waited for a comment while Leorio stared. The heavy lady working the check in took his passport.

“Because I read too many texts from last night?”

“No, no. More money elsewhere, that’s all.”

“But – well. You know.”

“That’s not something I think about when I’m making career choices. I can get along anywhere.”

He chased her into the thin walled passage. “I’m not getting on the plane if we’re breaking up. We might need to fight. They’d make us sit and I plan on shouting and waving my arms.”

“But there’s wine.”

“You’re not breaking up,” he noticed. “You’re joking.”

She slipped her hand into his. “Why would you think that would change?”

He adjusted his hand in hers.

“I’d still come home to you. Not that I won’t cheer when they make you turn your phone off.”

The captain and steward nodded to them. Kurapica stepped into the plane and found their seats, taking the window.

Leorio pulled her book from her hands as she slept. He thought at first that it was a detective story, but it looked more like a pseudo science textbook. It was titled ‘Phantom’s Shadow’ in lifted letters, with the subtitle: The Murders of Kuratabou.

That was her name. That was its spelling, exactly as he’d seen it on her mail.

He looked over. She dozed on his crumpled jacket, stuffed against the window.

Perhaps she’d chosen the name Kurata for herself. She was adopted; she could do that.

Leorio swallowed and opened the book quietly.

The chapter started with year and date, then descriptions of the heat, the feel of wooden plows and the smell of animal hairs as a nameless Kuratabou adjusted the harness straps on a burro. The huge farm went out on all sides, from the mountains to the horizon, and the Kuratabou sent a prayer up into the big blue bowl:

Sun in the sky, trees on the ground

Our bodies created from the earth

Our souls from the heavens

The sun and moon shines on our limbs

And the ground moistens our bodies

Giving this body to the wind that blows

Thank God for this miracle

And the Kuratabou territories

Wishing for everlasting peace in our souls

I desire to share happiness with my people

And to share their sadness.

God, please bless eternally, the Kuratabou people

Let our scarlet eyes be witness.

“God,” he repeated quietly. Such simple passion. He had never heard someone pray to share pain. But it wasn’t pain they shared. To feel whatever the other felt, together. It was love.

Leorio looked at the woman’s head next to him.

He skimmed the next few pages, which outlined their stiff moral code and its implication for the residents, who seemed to live in a communal setting. The precepts shared the feel of the Bahaii and Quaker emphasis on gender equality and moderation. They were flower-children in their economic dogma: communistic ownership, pooled resources, and mandatory shared chores. But there was a harshness to them, well restrained. They let their children fight, to physically battle against each other, to use knives, and held tournaments. They trained with rifles and pistols, but waited long periods for their licenses and used ear protection. They were exceedingly polite to the government workers that checked periodically to make sure they weren’t a cult. No one found abuse or neglect. The children read and debated; they went to colleges outside the camp and did exceedingly well. Women were leaders, holding 79% of the administrative and charismatic positions, and they spoke insultingly blunt. There was no gendered pronouns, no word for “he” or “she;” they used “it” for humans and dogs alike. No one used titles or honorifics, even children. They had no ban on drinking and had many festivals, but were mild drunks, said to “smile at the sky.” The Kurata were liked enough in the neighboring towns.

Maybe she simply wanted to be like them, Leorio thought, and so she took the name. They seem strong. Survivors. A community, together – family. Who wouldn’t want that?

The next chapter saw a complete subject change. The authors began to outline a different cult – a gang really, built of criminals who had often made their reputations across the border, and continued their crimes in spite of garnered wealth.

It was such an abrupt change that Leorio flipped to the back cover, to read the summary and see what the connection was. The bright text on black read:

Hidden from law and history, the greatest massacre and racial genocide on our soil since the wars of the colonists and native tribes is finally explained. The Kurata, a decades old intentional community, were harassed and intimidated by the aggressive cult gang, La Santa Muerte, with intent to occupy their territory. The Kuratans’ deep affection to their land and lifestyle drove them to refuse to merge, give up their land, or run.They fought, even going so far as putting together a court case against various cult members for previous murders. Then the Kurata disappeared completely within a night.

Journalist Hanzo Jonin ventures into the depths of the mystery as –

Leorio wiped his brow. “No way.”

This couldn’t be it, what she was researching. Her genealogy - murder, genocide.

She couldn’t hide something this big from him.

But he remembered her reading the book for the last week. He had never seen the title, never bothered to ask seriously. Whatcha reading, he’d say; nothing much, she’d answer, and put the book face down. Lean over, kiss him.

Beside him, Kurapica heaved a deep breath, falling further into sleep.

He looked over.

Leorio realized that he didn’t know the woman next to him. He’d fucked her, lived with her, worked with her, and he still knew absolutely nothing.

“You liar.”

He grabbed at her ribs.

Kurapica sat up with a yelp. She flailed, smacking the cold plastic window and Leorio’s thigh. Blinking, she wrapped her hands around her ribs. Seeing his vindictive face, she snapped, “What’s wrong with you? You’ll make the air marshall nervous.”

He dropped her book loudly onto her tray table. “What’s this all about?”

She felt sick. “Geneaology.”

“That’s insane.”

She slipped it off and stuck it into her purse, then snapped the table up. “It’s just a book.”

He hissed at her and poked her in the stomach. “It’s not just a book, that group is all over the web. They make people crazy.”

“They were a peaceful group – “

“Not the Kuratabou. The death worshippers. La Santa Muerte. That shit is crazy, Mexican voodoo crazy. They’ve already taken over Baja and no one seems to be able to keep them from crossing the border. They own everything.”

Kurapica bit her lip. He was clearly working it all out. She really hadn’t wanted him getting so close. It was an emotional issue for her; she didn’t want his opinion on it.

“You – oh my God, you knew that,” he said. “That’s why we’re going south. That’s why you brought binoculars! I asked you why and you said birds!”

She touched her thumb and finger together. “I said ‘to look through’.”

“I assumed ‘at birds’!”

The steward came by and offered them small cups of watery soda.

After the cart wheeled away, Kurapica took a sip.

“Kurapica, you lying little…albino techno-hippie.” Leorio chastised quietly.

“I’m not lying. I’m multi-tasking.” Kurapica waved a hand and looked out the window. The patchy farms were coming closer.

“Kurapica. I’m talking to you. This concerns me too, you know.”

“You’re still going to get laid,” she murmured. She had decided that much. She liked him enough. He’d stayed with her, cared for her, and was loyal. She wasn’t sure whether the pain would be worth it, but she didn’t want to have to worry about it anymore. She wanted know, so that it would be a known option, not a feared barrier.

“We have gotten laid anyway, safely at home,” he insisted. “This is no place for either of us to be going. We’re going to get kidnapped like, right away.”

“Then stay at the safe house.”

“The what?” He squawked.

“The – the sex retreat place. You can stay there.”

“Where will you be?”

“Looking around. At birds.”

“Kurapica!”

“It doesn’t involve you!” Kurapica grit out.

“If it involves you not dying, it really does.”

“They could be my family, Leorio. I want to see if I remember anything.”

He quieted.

On the ground, when they got their suitcases, Leorio kissed her. “How about I walk the land with you?”

“I’ll drug you before I let you go with me,” she stated.

“Kurapica…”

She walked away.

They fought on the steps. They fought in the taxi. By the time they were near the mountain where the retreat was, Kurapica was silently paging through her book. Leorio grabbed it from her and spoke into the silence.

“We need to go home.”

“I’m just going to drug you,” she concluded, crossing her arms. The road was bumpy and that, with the buzz of the engine, frustrated her. “See what fight’s in you when you’re drooling on a pillow. Then I’ll get some peace.”

“You – “ Leorio banged on the front seat. “Driver! Stop and let us off here.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Kurapica addressed the man, sitting up stiffly. “I’m wearing heels.”

“I’m holding her purse, so if you want to get paid, stop.”

“Leorio!”

The car jerked and pulled over onto the gravel shoulder. Leorio leapt out and came alongside her door. “Kura. Come on.”

Kurapica tightened her buckle and crossed her arms in front of the shoulder strap. “I’m not getting out. You’re scaring me.”

Leorio sat down backwards to face her, his foot on the bottom of the car frame and his back to the door hinges. He slipped his hand up her thigh.

“Stop it!” Kurapica shrieked, twisting away.

“I – I’m not doing anything bad,” he promised.

“Leave me alone!”

“You’re not a child. You’re a grown woman - we can talk about this.”

“Exactly; you’re not involved in decisions I make for myself. You’re not my guardian; you’re not my therapist; you’re not a social services worker or a cop. You can’t make me discuss something I don’t wish to, and you sure as hell can’t make me do what you want.”

“That isn’t what I’m trying to do – “

“Stop trying to make my choices for me.”

Leorio stuttered. “I’m worried.”

“Sir, ma’am?” The driver said.

“Just a moment!” Leorio said.

“Stop being so controlling!” Kurapica said again.

“It’s me.”

“You’re trying to drag me out of a cab in the middle of nowhere.”

“Just to have fun desert sex. I thought you’d be more agreeable.”

She considered it for a minute, shutting her eyes. “I would still prefer the retreat center. But I appreciate your sentiment and will consider telling you what I’ve found out – once we’re at the center.”

“If I get back in the car?”

She shoved him out and shut the door.

As he came around, Kurapica caught the driver watching her in the mirror. She bit her lip. “Sorry.”

The driver shrugged. “Don’t be. A good fight like that? It makes me miss my wife.”

The retreat hall was a series of discrete buildings at the top of a line of white stone steps. The place was cut into on a low steppe, and the rise was set with stairs and a tiered garden of blooming cacti and colored stones. It was well designed and maintained, but hard to appreciate in the heat.

Kurapica and Leorio dragged their bags up. At the top, the path led through an unlocked gate into a sheltered garden.

Kurapica pushed inside, calling, “Hello?”

A man was in the corner; he was a monster, well over six feet, with a wave of bright hennaed hair. He wore an open Hawaiian shirt and long white shorts. He was straddling a hammock holding a woman in a mess of violet silk. The woman pointed at Kurapica, and he turned.

He had what looked like a prison tattoo on either cheek – a star and a heart.

Kurapica swallowed loudly, but lifted her hand. “Dr. Hisoka?”

“Welcome!” He crooned, waving. His shirt waved like a flag. He stepped over the hammock and came toward them.

Leorio’s mouth dried. The guy’s shorts were tented like he had a roasting fork in there.

“Aren’t you handsome,” the host said, staring. His voice weaseled, simpering.

Kurapica put her suitcase down and offered her hand. “I’m Kurapica. We spoke on the phone.”

“Mm, Ms. Kurata. I’m honored. We are so excited to have someone here of your condition.”

Kurapica turned white. “That…was private.”

“There are no secrets here, dear. Everyone will know everything about everyone. But we promise it goes no further than our doors. But if you’re sure?”

Kurapica said, “Yes, I didn’t want to tell anyone here. It isn’t their business!”

“I’m sorry. Oh, such a beautiful face when you cry. I bet your boyfriend makes you sad just to see it.”

“I’m her fiancé,” Leorio pushed forward. “We’re engaged.”

“How romantic. Love is the basis of our program. My wife is just over in the garden; always an inspiration to me.”

“I can see that,” Leorio said. “You two going over the lesson plan?”

“Oh, hah!” Hisoka grinned down at his erection. Then he leaned over, framed Kurapica’s face with his hands and drew them down. His fingertips dragged to her chin. She looked as sedated as a mouse watching a cobra. He whimpered, “I do so love my work. And what’s wrong with that?”

Leorio slammed his suitcase on the bed. “I hate him!”

“I know, but…his reviews were very positive and I like the program. It takes a strange personality to handle a profession like this. He was kind to me on the phone. You haven’t given him a chance,” Kurapica said, laying her toiletries in on the bathroom counter. She was glad the focus was off her book and research; it was good for Leorio to have the more prominent enemy. “He’s very well endowed.”

“What?”

A shiver like lightning routed her spine. “Educated. I meant educated. He knows what he’s talking about.”

“Oh, really?”

“Um.”

“Not your fault, shorty,” Leorio said, clapping her shoulder as he passed. “It was right freaking there. You almost got a mouthful when he leaned over – “

“Don’t be crass.”

“Is he going to touch everybody like that?”

She hesitated before her suitcase. She wasn’t sure exactly what the games would be. They might involve touching. But as she looked at the muscles in her husband’s neck, the pout of his lips…she hoped that man might get his hands on him. “It’s a sex therapy class.”

“What does that mean?”

She hesitated, folding her slip into the drawer. She was still red from mis-speaking, and it startled her because she hadn’t even realized his candid presentation was even still on her mind. “I…I’m not sure.”

“Is he going to fuck you?”

Kurapica sighed. “Please stop.”

“What? Come on, answer or I’ll think the worst!”

“Leorio, calm down.”

“Just promise me you won’t.”

“What?”

“Fuck the jolly giant!”

“Stop badgering me.” He was never like this at home, she thought – or had he been? Maybe she hadn’t noticed. Her fault – too much sex.

“Why won’t you just promise? You can tell him no.”

“Why can’t you just trust me? I can’t believe you’d even think of it! I don’t want you touching me like that, I can’t even imagine him trying to – “ She began to feel her eyes prickling, and she turned away.

As she did, she imagined the hugeness of that man. He dwarfed her. Perhaps it would be easy with him; she didn’t care about him. He could just make her do it. She wouldn’t have to like it. She could just let him and then the pain would be over. It was just the first time, wasn’t it?

“Just promise me.” He grabbed her wrist.

“I want a different bedroom,” she said.

The words were out of her mouth before she could even understand them. She had to listen to them hang in the air before she could work out the meaning.

“Dr. Hisoka!”

“Kurapica…”

The man was tangled in yoga - upsidedown, his long legs pointed at the sky, balanced with his chest to his wife’s shoulders as she stood bent like a right angle in the downward-dog position. At their yelling, he carefully let a leg down, and went over backwards, standing as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His wife opened her eyes, but shut them again and moved slowly into another asana.

Kurapica stopped back, shocked at his agility. “You’re…quite a gymnast.”

“One moment?”

Kurapica nodded. Hisoka knelt for a moment by his wife and murmured to her.

There was a screech in the hall as Leorio, passing quickly, stopped and found them. He came out in a huff. “You don’t have to take this to him.”

“There’s no couch to move to,” Kurapica said. “I need to ask him if there’s another place to sleep.”

Hisoka straightened, then leaned over to kiss his wife. His white pants stretched over his ass. Kurapica felt a sting of blushing and arousal. She turned away.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Leorio said. His hands came down her shoulders. “You don’t need another room. We can talk through this.”

Kurapica shook her head. “I don’t want to talk. I’m angry with you.”

Leorio panted, shifting close as the therapist walked near. “Back off, man. Give us a second.”

“You don’t trust me,” Kurapica hissed. “And you shouldn’t.”

“Kurapica,” Leorio murmured. “I don’t care about the - the book, the genealogy. It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to have to tell you about it. I don’t want to go through life like a three-legged race, strapped to someone I have to convince to run.”

                “What?”

                “I don’t want to be obligated to you.” She shook his arms off.

                Hisoka’s brows went up. He stopped near, waiting.

                Kurapica took a small breath. “I don’t want to be married.”

                Hisoka suppressed a grin, wincing with an attempt at professionalism.

                “Wh…what married?” Leorio sputtered, turning her. “Look at me.”

                Kurapica looked. She saw a man losing his partner, his lust object, something that he’d thought was his forever and his alone. Anger and sadness. She despised it. Her heart felt small, turned off. She couldn’t reach what she felt obligated to feel, to pick up and bear like some cross of her gender.

                She pinched her face, trying to concentrate. “Leorio. I’d rather sleep and discuss this when I have the energy to remember how much I love you.”

                “Hang on. Just hang on a second.” Leorio took her hands.

                She pulled them away. “You shouldn’t trust me. I never said I’ll be loyal.”

                Leorio stared. Then he laughed softly.

Looking at him, a beautiful plain man, with a fun plain job, and happy plain plans for a long plain life, Kurapica doubted him and his understanding of her. She felt like the thing that didn’t belong. The sharp edged, bleached out, hard hearted, unsatisfied thing that didn’t belong in his life and would never stay there. She just wanted so much more from herself, and didn’t want a false home, didn’t want to be his hobbled amusement.

                Leorio stood still, looking at his feet. Then he turned around and walked away.

                Kurpica wrapped her arms around herself, feeling grotesque and mean.

                The tall therapist walked close to her. “Why did you do that?”

After a moment, she answered. “I wanted him to let me rest.”

“Ah.”

“I just wanted to hear myself think. He always wants to discuss things, so he can argue. I’m just too tired to try to explain that to him. Why it makes me hate him. And us.”

“Is that all?” Hisoka looked after the man.

Kurapica nodded. “Some of it.”

“He’s young. He hasn’t learned to respect his partner’s decisions.” The stark man smiled. His white skin and red hair shone, cut like the Jack of a set of playing cards.

Kurapica nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t. Knowing won’t make it easier to live with him.”

“I like him. I trust him.” She covered her eyes. “I would like an extra room for tonight. Before the sessions start.”

“An extra room?” Hisoka simpered. “There isn’t any.”

“But you said the other couples aren’t here yet. I’ll clean up after myself. I’m very organized.”

“I can see that. It’s not a matter of hassle. There is another group staying here for a different purpose. Some of my wife’s friends. You’ll meet them at dinner.”

“Oh.”

Hisoka clapped his hands. “Wait. You can have our daughter’s room. She’s run off at the moment.”

“What?”

“Run off – oh, but don’t be upset. That’s her nature. Free range children! She’s very resourceful, very independent. She has her own projects and we respect that.”

Kurapica thought of the cheap paperback in her purse. “That’s nice.”

“Maki,” Hisoka called.

The woman straightened and walked to them. She was almost exactly Kurapica’s height and it surprised them both. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“This is Kurapica, Maki. She’ll be in the classes next week.”

Machi put out her hand.

Kurapica took it. Both of them reached straight, rather than trying to dip their hand in like a Victorian lady for a kiss. Kurapica smiled, realizing sharply how few women friends she had – compared to what she’d like. “Good to meet you.”

Maki stared, mesmerized for a moment. “Likewise.”

Maki’s voice was low, even. To Kurapica, the woman seemed to match the fountain that played behind them, plunging out in the marble bowl, imperious and patient.

Hisoka smiled and touched her back. “Let’s let her use Kallu’s bedroom for a night. Kurapica just asserted herself to her husband and wants to put physical space between them.”

“Putting physical distance between them is moving away from a solution.”

“She mentioned she needs rest.” Hisoka purred. “They traveled some 12 hours to get here.”

Maki smiled. “Of course you fought. But it’s still true.”

“Well, there’s your choices, Kurapica,” Hisoka said. “Go to the room or tell your partner that you’re physically exhausted and will rather continue this later.”

“I did tell him. He kept talking.”

Maki and Hisoka exchanged a look. Maki said, “This is his area; I run the vineyard.”

“Go on,” Hisoka said.

Maki nodded. “Your husband is making a common mistake. Naive people view an argument like a fight, where weakness in the other person is targeted, not respected. It’ll take awhile to teach you two to fight effectively, so your instinct to run now may be for the best.”

“Run? I’m not – “

“Hey, it kept you alive, didn’t it?” Machi said, staring. Her eyes had a strange quality of looking both wide and “Nothing’s better when you’re hurt.”

Hisoka nodded. “I’ll show her the room.”

Kurapica made herself nap until dinner. Then she rolled off the bed, put some jeans over her panties and pulled on a cheap black hoodie. Sleep had left her a little space of time that nothing could be accomplished in. She made a goal to apologize to Leorio, but he wasn’t in his room.

Kurapica went down the hall to dinner. She felt like air, just existing. No emotion. Still, after sleeping, she could feel her brain working fully; she was much calmer.

She followed the roar of people.

Maki had filled dining room with her friends.

Kurapica’s eyes danced over them. They were strange – there was a burn victim, wrapped up like he should have been in a hospital, next to a dwarf with long green hair, both beside two men the size of walls, one with high-gauge disk earrings and the other bare chested with a wild white mane. The rest were as normal as could be – a few men and women, middle aged to young.

None were dressed for dinner. Kurapica felt relief, hunching inside her hoodie.

Maki was talking as she uncorked a bottle of wine.

Kurapica smiled at the warmth of the scene. Such great friends. It was lucky she arrived early enough to see them.

She stepped inside. “Hi.”

The group went instantly quiet. The white mane man jostled his friend with his elbow. The woman in business clothes stood, putting her fist on her hip.

Kurapica lifted her hand, nearly choking. “Sorry. Did I interrupt?”

“No,” Maki slipped off the table and addressed to her friends. “I mentioned Hisoka has clients. Clear out to the barn if you want to drink.”

“No, please. I don’t mind,” Kurapica said. “I’d enjoy the company.”

Maki shook her head.

“Maki,” a man said. Kurapica jerked around; he’d been right inside the door, inches from her, invisible. He stood. There was a blue bindi tattooed on his forehead and jasper earrings on his lobes. He was very clean faced, with slicked back black hair. “I’m sure we don’t have to talk business every night.”

“Right,” a man in a jogging suit rubbed his hair. “We can’t go wrong with another cute girl in the mix.”

Kurapica smiled awkwardly. “I’m here with a partner.”

The white haired man slapped his leg and laughed. “I’m sure he won’t mind. Come sit.”

“Hang on – Kurapica, was it?” A long haired man wearing a sword turned, his voice low, eyes sloped and tired. “You don’t know, girl? Your boy just called a cab. They’re outside.”

“Look man,” Leorio said. “I’ll give you fifty for the – “

“Leorio!”

He spun and saw his crazy girl leaping down the outside staircases, disappearing behind landscaping.

When she reached him, she stopped.

He grinned, wanting to say, You look like an altar boy – good soul, bowed head.

Kurapica stepped close and embraced him.

“Are you – “ he said. She was shaking.

After a moment she began to speak. “Don’t go. I was lying. I was tired and you’d been fighting with me for so long. I wanted to give my ears a break.”

He nodded. It was so fucking stupid, the two of them. Fighting as if they couldn’t just ask. He was fighting because he didn’t like the answer though. “I wanted you to tell me – “

“I don’t care what you want! You can’t fight with me like that to get it! For that long. It’s loud. I’m exhausted.”

“I – “

“No. In a relationship, sometimes you get answers you don’t like! And you live with them. That’s respect.”

Leorio sucked his lips, suppressing a grin.

She looked at him. “What?”

“I thought of something smooth to say.”

“Okay.”

“I never get something I don’t like with you.”

Kurapica blinked, then looked down, grinning. She scoffed. Then she leaned her head forward on his chest. “That’s stupid.”

The cab sped forward, and Leorio stumbled, dragging her. He yelled at the driver, “Sorry! Matters of heart.”

“Fuck you,” it echoed out the window.

Kurapica giggled. “Wow.”

“I wasn’t going to leave,” Leorio said. “Even before you came down. I said that to him. That’s evidence pro-me.”

“Then why’d – “

“I called him because for one psychotic moment I thought you had brought me here as a way to break up. That you wanted to fuck a bunch of strangers and thought this was a way you could do it without going through the inconvenience of a discussion with me.”

“That’s…bizarre.”

“I know! I know.” He touched his head. “I was paranoid. I don’t do well in heat. Or on car rides. You’re not the only one who gets crazy when they’re tired.”

“Clearly.”

Leorio leaned down, to look her in the eyes. “It made me kind of happy to realize it was dumb.”

Kurapica looked down.

“Because I realized that I was doing what you were doing. Hiding, running. And if I could love you that much, want to stay with you, and still call a cab – well. You must love me more to be that angry, targeted, and tired and only move one room away.”

“I do!”

He grinned. Then he blanked his face and looked seriously at her. “You know that means I win.”

Kurapica wiped her eyes. “Wh-what?”

“I win. You love me more. I get more love.”

“You do not!”

Leorio laughed.

Kurapica covered her eyes, turning hot and red.

“I don’t?” he asked.

“I’m feeling a little competitive. Anyway, I caught you, so…I think I win.”

“Oh fine.” Leorio stuck out his wrists. “You win me.”

                Kurapica leaned up and kissed him. It felt good.

                There was a hail of cheers and boos.

                Leorio jerked back. He saw a crowd at the top of the stairs. “Who are they?”

                Kurapica turned in his arms. “Maki has friends visiting.”

Leorio looked down at her. In a flash, he imagined grinding into her, kissing her and holding her tight to his body until she came screaming for him, unable to stand alone, there at the bottom of the stairs. They couldn’t have that, couldn’t top it either. They’d never be with her; she’d never put up with them. She wouldn’t.

Or she might.

“I’m gonna behave,” he said. “So get used to me being around, even if it is in another room.”

                Kurapica slept in the daughter’s room. But Leorio came in, with his glasses glinting in the lamplight and his long hands. He sat down on the side of the bed. Then he tucked up the sheets around her.

                “No,” she complained. “It’s hot.”

                He leaned forward. “I’ll cool you off. Hands?”

                She held out her hands. He put his under her elbows and lifted her arms. Then he smiled at her and teased off her camisole.

                “Did I mention I love your nipples?” He reached forward. The fingertip of his index finger pulled slowly over his nipple. “They’re soft.”

                Kurapica didn’t bother looking down over her body. Her lights and tints didn’t interest her. She preferred his thick dark hair, and she reached for it. “Isn’t it strange, how people always want what they don’t have?”

                He traced a circle around her nipple. “Not really. What else would you want?”

                Kurapica caught one foot under the other. Rolling her toes tightly, she squeezed her knees together. Her eyes opened again on the dark hair, the sweet man in front of her. It wasn’t what he was doing. It was that he was doing it. That he was there, touching her.

                He smoothed his hands down her stomach. Then he pulled the blankets down. His mouth pressed hot; he kissed her clit, lips stroking around.

                Kurapica shifted, moaning – Leorio laughed. His tongue stuck to the cloth. She could feel it underneath.

                “Leo…” she breathed.

                He turned out the light. “Shh. I’m gonna go check out the porn – and sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

                “Oh no, no – “

                “Fine. You’re such a taskmaster.”
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