A New Perspective

Everyone has a different response to heavy drinking. This was a theory Tatsumi was testing, though he hadn't thought of it that way when he had found the underground bar. His response to being trashed was an acute heightening of his senses. Everything was brighter, the German singing with the house band in his native language was fascinating, the shadows were dramatically enhanced, and the smells were pungent but very interesting. He felt like he was in a kaleidoscope that encompassed all the senses. He thought it was really neat. He had found out everything was neat when you were drinking glow in the dark, neon blue vodka, at least he thought it was vodka. He wasn't really sure anymore.

He was just sitting there, listening to the angry music, rocking to it the slightest bit, when a familiar man spotted him and hastily made his way over. He literally had to squeeze through the mass of dancing, writhing bodies to get to the secretary who was still seated- demure but very drunken- at the bar.

"Tatsumi-san! Are you all right?!"

Looking over, one eye squinting, the brunette checked out the new arrival, blatantly looking the sexy man up and down. "Nice to see you.. uh.. um.. don't tell me, I know it." He thought for a moment- a long moment, the other man becoming very worried under the quizzical stare, but finally had a break through. "Tsauzuki! That's your name! Hi."

The agent stared at him with big, round, amethyst eyes. Tatsumi had just checked him out! He must have had *a lot* to drink. "Tatsumi, how much have you drunk?"

"Not much, I think. I don't know, really, I..." he trailed off, looking up at the ceiling and getting distracted by the lights dancing across it.

Tsuzuki was really worried now. Tatsumi couldn't even concentrate. That was a first. "How about we go home now, Tatsumi-san. Let you get some rest."

"But I' having a good time here," the brunette said, his eyes still on the lights on the ceiling.

The other man glanced up, then back to the very very drunk man before him. Strange how Tatsumi wasn't a sloppy drunk. He was always so pristine about everything. It was unfair that the quality extended towards drunkeness! Why he was thinking about this now of all things, he's never know, especially when Tatsumi was bouncing to the new song the punk-ish band was pounding out. It was definitely time to go.

"Come on, Tatsumi. Lets go."

"I don't wantgo fgo far. I don't think I can make it," he paused and searched for a word, squinting at Tsuzuki's pretty face. "-tonight. I have an apartment on.. on.. some street."

Why couldn't things be simple every now and then, the shinigami wondered as he helped Tatsumi out of the back entrance of the bar. "Which way, Tatsumi?"

"Uhm, left.. no right. It's by the ice cream parlor, across from the flower shop."

"Are you sure?" Last thing Tsuzuki wanted was to be wandering around Tokyo with a trashed Tatsumi leaning on him.

"Hai. Landmarks." Tatsumi leaned his head on Tsuzuki, mumbling some gibberish in French. When had Tatsumi learned French, of all things? The shinigami half-carried Tatsumi to his apartment. Once they figured out that his number was two twenty-seven, not two twenty-three and that was why the key wasn't working, they were able to get in. Tsuzuki doing most of the work or course.

Convincing Tatsumi that bed was a good idea was harder than he had anticipated, especially since Tatsumi nearly passed out befre they reached the bed. They both ended up on it, Tatsumi dragging Tsuzuki with him on accident. No one was very graceful when they were about to pass out. Tsuzuki was about to get up and make coffee since he just knew the shadow master would have it-hell, he was drinking it all the time at work-, but the shadows from the room reared up and collected into a blob-like shape right in front of him. It looked almost human, but he didn't have much time to analyze. Next thing he knew he was laying on the bed beside Tatsumi, the other man's hand lying on his chest.

"Don't go, Tsuzuki," came the slight whisper. He stared at the ceiling, sighing. Not like he had a choice, really.

Wary, he watched the shadows recede to their normal casts. Why did stuff like this happen to him? Being visually molested by Tatsumi, then getting stuck in his apartment, in his bed. Yet he wasn't that upset. Looking over at the flushed face and half parted lips, with ash brown hair falling everywhere, he knew there were worse ways to spend a few hours. Besides, the shadow master was dead asleep, not raping him or anything. He might as well catch a few Zs while he could. God only knew what the morning would bring.

*I have never known Mr. Responsible to get drunk, so I got him trashed! Someone had to write it- and poor Tsuzuki!*