On Territory
by Utopian Trunks
A Pet Shop of Horrors fanfic. Empty calories for your head on Valentine's Day, to balance out the chocolate.
Disclaiming: I don't own the characters. This was written with knowledge of the anime and the first four volumes of the manga--apologies if it conflicts with anything that comes later, but this is only fluff, after all. Various references to the manga run amok here, but Jill is from the anime, because I'm not sure whether she's supposed to be the same person as the female cop in the manga. I think the latter is cooler and cuter, by the by, but her name hasn't been said yet... Similarly, my only source for Chief Ross' name is the ending credits of the anime.
"Oh, Detective, you didn't have to," Count D began as Leon Orcot, for what had to be the hundredth time, averted his eyes and thrust a box at him. "After all, we..." his voice trailed off.
Leon stole a glance at him. The Count's eyes had gone wide, his painted lips were parted in a gasp of surprise.
"Ladurée...!" Count D breathed. "Surely... Detective... you're playing a trick on me?"
Leon looked blank. The name on the small green box meant nothing to him.
D's long fingers shook slightly as they reached for the box. "Surely it couldn't be... not..." D slit the seal on the box with one lacquered nail and gingerly pushed up the lid. "Ah!" He let the lid fall again, clutching that one hand to his chest, his eyes closed. "Ladurée! One of the most famous sweet-shops in Paris. And this... the Macaron d'Or! Parisians themselves call it a piece of Heaven, and line up for hours to buy it! And the price...!" Biting his lip, D gave a small moan.
Leon felt his face heat and looked away again. There was something vaguely wrong about watching the Count go into his ecstasies over exotic sugar. Like walking in on someone in the bedroom.
D had calmed down a bit by the time they reached his sitting room, but there was the extra spring in his step as he prepared their tea that only appeared when Leon had really scored something good.
"How ever did you get your hands on this, Detective Orcot?" Count D asked, giving him that enigmatic smile as he set a steaming cup of tea in front of him. "Or shouldn't I ask?"
Leon was a bit taken aback at the insinuation in those eyes. "A friend brought it back for me," he said more defensively than he needed to. "He was taking his vacation in Paris." Leon was a straightforward type of guy. He didn't have a sweet tooth, and on the rare occasion he felt like indulging, he was just as happy with a sixty-cent doughnut spat out by a vending machine. If he got his hands on something that he knew would make someone else happier than it did him, he gave it away, that was all there was to it. Leave aside the fact that he'd used confectionary gifts to strike up an acquaintance with the Count in the first place. Leave aside the fact that he'd once tried to lure D downtown with a box of Sabaiyen Mousse, fully intending to interrogate and hopefully arrest him. Yes, leave all that aside... Leon was honest and straightforward, damnit!
...And if he wasn't, it was all the fault of spending too much time around D.
"I didn't realize you ran with such a cultured set." Count D placed the Macaron d'Or, now attractively arranged on a plate, on the coffee table. He seated himself with his own cup of tea. "Or was this an old high school friend?"
Leon flushed angrily. Bingo. Well excuse me if I made all my classy friends by accident, he fumed, picking up his teacup to disguise his reaction. He eyed the Macaron d'Or skeptically. There were about sixteen and they looked like the macaroons one of your old aunts would bring to a family Christmas party, complete with disturbing shades of fuchsia and pistachio among the less flagrant brown and cream-coloured cookies. Leon made a face. Gross...
"Well, since you brought them, I think you should try the first one, Detective." Count D's cordial smile was turned on him at full brightness.
"It's Leon," Leon mumbled. He frowned again at the plate and shook his head. "You go ahead."
He could have sworn D bounced slightly in his seat before reaching out for one. True to form, he chose the most garishly coloured of the lot. He caught Leon's eyes as he bent over the table. "You haven't drugged them, have you?"
"Wh-what?" Leon was caught off guard. "Don't be stupid!"
D gave his quiet chuckle as he straightened, resettling himself in his chair. His eyes closed as he brought the sweet to his lips, long lashes curling gently against his pale cheeks. Bright red lips parted, pink tongue and pearly teeth just visible before he took a bite.
Leon caught himself staring and hastily shifted his gaze to his teacup. Mm, tea! There was nothing elegantly beguiling, mysteriously dazzling, or even vaguely homoerotic about a good old cup of tea! Except maybe that it was England's beverage of choice...
"Mm~!"
Apparently, the scarily-coloured crap was good. As the Count's moans of ecstasy continued to attest.
Leon stole a glance at the Count, whose face was remarkably expressive of the raptures that transported him. Leon quickly returned to stare harder at his tea. If only in a semi-conscious way, he knew he got a certain guilty pleasure out of bringing the Count sweets. He didn't need gifts to just drop in anymore--though they helped when he had bigger questions--but there was definitely something in the reaction he got. Few people Leon had ever known were as easy to please as D. And he had never seen quite such a strong reaction to a gift. It was oddly gratifying... even if Count D was someone he intended to put behind bars.
But really, the noises D made... If this was how he got while eating, you had to wonder what he sounded like in bed...
Leon choked and glared at the bottom of his teacup as if it had betrayed him. Anyone would make that connection, though! Wouldn't they? Or was it really only him...?!
Thankfully, his musings were interrupted.
"You must try one, Detective," D said, sighing with contentment. "I insist."
"Huh... I guess..." Leon said, relieved to have something else to focus on. He selected the one dark brown cookie, hoping that meant it was chocolate, and not something weird like dandelion root or potato flavour--you never knew around the pet shop. Or with the French, for that matter. Giving up on taking a dainty bite as the Count did, Leon popped the whole thing in his mouth, braced for a nasty shock.
Nope, it was chocolate.
A piece of heaven, though? Don't believe the hype. It tasted only a little better than it looked--like maybe that old aunt knew her way around the kitchen. Leon rolled his eyes. I'll take a Hershey's bar at one-hundredth the price, thanks. He couldn't imagine what his friend had been thinking.
Count D took a sip from his cup and smiled at Leon over the rim. "I am pleased with the gift, Detective, but it wasn't the reason you came today."
A businesslike grin tugged at Leon's lips. There were times, now, when he dropped in on the Count with no particular agenda, even on his days off, but D always knew the difference. "Yeah, that's right," Leon agreed. "Don Cid Morelli. Word is he was seen leaving here three days ago."
"That's true," D said as if he were discussing a bit of pleasant weather they'd had. "You just missed him that day, in fact. You brought me a lemon tart," he remembered, smiling.
Leon was a little nonplussed at the admission. "Mind if I ask what he was doing here?" He took a sip of his tea.
"Oh, he was threatening my life."
Leon sprayed his tea back into his cup and fumbled for a napkin. "Wh-what?!"
D sighed. "Yes, he was very upset about that incident with his cousin the other month... he seems to think it was my fault. So now he intends to kill me."
"I'm sure it was your fault! I knew it--wait. Don Morelli's going to kill you?
"Indeed."
Leon's left eye twitched. "'Indeed?' That's not something to say 'indeed' about and sit there drinking tea! Do you even read the paper? Do you know what the bodies look like when Morelli offs someone?"
"I don't read those stories," D sniffed. "Human brutality to other humans hardly counts as news to me."
"Of course, what was I thinking?" Leon glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me this immediately?"
D blinked. "What for?"
"What for? When a mob boss makes threats, you call the goddamn police! Even another hoodlum would ask for protection."
"Oh," the Count said, as if this were a novel idea. "But that's really not necessary."
Leon opened his mouth, then shut it. He stood up. "Alright, look. I'll be back later."
"There is always a place for you at my tea table," D said, smiling that imperturbable smile. Leon gave him a long look, then hurried out of the shop, shaking his head in exasperation.
"No." Chief Ross's tone had a very final ring to it.
"But, Chief!" Leon protested. "This could be a chance to catch some of the gang red-handed! You can't just--"
"There's no guarantee of that," the Chief said. "The last few arrests we've made thinking they were his guys ended up being thugs so low down on the chain we couldn't prove a thing. Even if it wasn't just an idle threat--which I find seriously unlikely in this case--we're not going to catch any big fish on this one."
"There's a chance--"
A frown creased Ross's brow. "On the off chance we caught anyone higher up, their lawyers would have 'em sprung again in no time. That's the way these things work. We'd have to nail 'em with something a lot more solid than making threats if we want to keep 'em around for more than--"
"Chief, this is justice... the law we're talking about here! Just because of some fucking lawyers--!"
"Orcot," the warning tone in his voice brought Leon to a halt. "Do you want to waste the department's time and manpower chasing thugs who kill each other and will be back on the streets before you can blink, or do you want to put away a few of the real dangers to society, and keep them behind bars?"
Leon's shoulders slumped. "Fine, I got it," he muttered, and turned to go. "Woulda thought the way you go on about that hamster, you might've wanted to keep D alive..."
"If the Count's not requesting protection, there's nothing we can or should do. What do I always tell you about Chinatown, Orcot? Count D can take care of himself."
"Yeah, yeah..." Leon slouched out of the Chief's office. He found his way to his desk and dropped into his chair with arms folded and a scowl on his face.
"No luck, huh?"
"Jill," Leon grumbled. "No. For all that he's practically in bed with the guy over that stupid hamster, the Chief won't lift a finger. How'd you know, anyway?"
"You're loud."
"Huh." Leon's gaze slid surreptitiously to Jill's legs, flatteringly displayed not only by her habitual miniskirt but also by the position she'd taken leaning up against his desk. Somehow, though, today, beautiful as they were, they weren't helping. "Fuck it," Leon growled. "Chief's probably right. And even if he's not..."
"If he's not, then we've already seen the pictures," Jill sighed, shaking her head as she stood up. "I really hope the Count isn't in over his head this time."
"Wh-what--you think so, too?" Leon said, worried now to be agreed with.
Jill shrugged, lifted one hand to cover a worried moue. "I don't know... but I really wish the Chief would've sent at least one guy to cover D's place..."
Leon watched her thread her way through the other desks back to her own as an unpleasantly familiar feeling settled over him. The feeling of duty. The recognition of a situation where "a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Hell, he had a couple days' leave coming up this month, and his last hospital stay had been strictly work-related so it hadn't eaten into his sick days...
Oh man am I gonna regret this...
Leon was edging his way through the narrow streets of Chinatown, between thronged pedestrians and double-parked cars when, nearly upon Count D's pet shop, he was shouldered aside and nearly bowled over by someone sprinting in the other direction.
"Hey!" Leon turned around, grabbing at the man's shoulder, but he was too slow. His hand slid off the man's jacket and the man, shoving people left and right, was quickly lost in the crowd. Leon frowned after him, tempted to follow. Then he glanced back and noticed the two dogs at the head of the pet shop stairs poised and growling. He hurried over.
"Hey," he started, approaching the dogs carefully with his hands outstretched, palm-up. He recognized them--a very friendly German shepherd and a Labrador who hung around the tearoom a lot--but they looked mad as hell, and he didn't want to upset them now. "You guys chase that guy off? What's up? You recognize me, right boys?"
Still growling, the two dogs cocked their heads to the side to regard him. In the shadows at the base of the stairs, Leon spotted the freaky goat-thing--Totetsu, D called it--snarling in front of the shop's open door. The Labrador licked Leon's hand, and taking its cue, the shepherd butted his head against Leon's hand. "Good dogs, good boys," Leon said, stroking them soothingly. Then something clicked. "...What was that guy doing here? Is D alright?" The dogs let him pass and Leon hurried down the stairs. Considering his options, he made a jump from the third step down, over Totetsu--who did make a jump at his ass with fangs bared. "D!" Leon called, landing inside the shop. "Count, you alright?"
"In here," a voice sighed. Leon followed it through a curtained doorway. He found the Count standing in one corner with a hand to his left shoulder, frowning at the remains of what had to have been a very large and very expensive porcelain vase. Q-chan was fluttering around him making worried noises. D looked up at him with a strained expression. "You've missed the excitement, I'm afraid, Detective..."
"What happened?"
D's silk-slippered feet stepped carefully around the shards towards him. "I had the honour of another visit from one of Don Morelli's associates."
Damn it! Leon kicked himself mentally. I knew my instinct to grab that guy was on... "What's with you?" he said, quickly turning to more immediately available lines of inquiry. "What're you holding your shoulder for? Are you hiding something there?" He caught D's hand as the Count tried to move back out of range and yanked it away from his shoulder.
"Detective--!" A now-obvious tear in the patterned silk of D's robe fell open, revealing a long stretch of smooth, ivory skin. Leon balked and released him--D snatched up the corner of the torn fabric, half-turning away from Leon. He glared back over his shoulder.
"S-sorry." Leon felt himself flush and his temper immediately rose with it. What the hell was that modest reaction, and what the hell was he feeling bad about it for? The Count was a freaky guy to be sure, but still a guy. So why did he feel like he'd just walked in on a girl changing?
"I forgive you," the Count said icily. "As usual, for your rather overzealous modus operandi."
Leon grunted. "So he roughed you up some, huh?"
Count D shrugged. "Nothing to speak of. I'll miss the vase, though."
"You know, you can press charges now. Assault and destruction of property is a start."
D's smile returned. "That won't be necessary. Tetchan, Saschel and Kamikaze seem to have made the right impression on him."
"What kinda names are those for--never mind. The next guy who comes along is gonna be packin'. I'm surprised that guy wasn't..."
"Detective, your concern is appreciated but unnecessary. If you have any other business with me, perhaps it can wait until I've changed?"
"Heh," Leon smiled grimly. "Take your time, 'cuz I'm gonna be staying a while."
D frowned. "How long?"
Leon folded his arms. "As long as it takes. Until you're off the Don's hit list, anyway."
"That's..."
"Unnecessary. Yeah, stuff it. My mind's made up."
D lifted an eyebrow. "It's very generous of... your Chief...?" Leon twitched at that, then growled when he saw D catch it and smile in response. "But as I haven't requested protection--"
"This ain't about protection," Leon interrupted. "If Morelli's goons bust in here, I can nab 'em red-handed, no way to weasel outta charges. It's a solid enough tip and I'm gonna follow it."
"I see," said D. The two dogs had finally come back inside and made their way to his side. "And yet you came straight down here instead of pursuing the man who fled."
"How--?" Leon glared at the Labrador licking D's fingers. Then, What the hell am I thinking?! The dog?! Gah! "Bigger fish to fry," Leon covered lamely.
"Mm," said the Count, examining the long nails of his free hand. "It's not just that you feel guilty about leaving me trapped in easy reach of a serial killer once before?"
"No! Now... don't try to argue!!"
Count D sighed. "Very well... it's no use when you get like this. Would you wait in the tearoom while I change?" He shot Leon an accusing look. "My arm is getting tired, standing here like this."
"Oh--uh, yeah. Go ahead..." Just then, a very familiar set of teeth clamped down around his elbow. "AGH! Fuckin' demon goat--!!"
Leon managed to shake off Totetsu and was in the tearoom nursing a set of teeth-marks when Count D returned wearing something that looked altogether too much like something from a Victoria's Secret catalogue. He set down a stack of sheets, a blanket and a pillow on the couch beside Leon. "I hope you won't mind making your bed up yourself, Detective, I find myself quite exhausted by today's events."
"Geez, the sofa?" Leon grumbled.
"Surely you didn't expect anything else after barging in uninvited? Expecting a bed would be most inappropriate..."
"Oh, yeah?" Leon heated immediately. "None of the working class sleeping on your sheets, huh? This is America, pal! I don't care if you're the Count or the King, or--Not good enough for your bed, am I--" Leon trailed off and clamped his mouth shut, feeling his face quickly go entirely red.
D touched a manicured hand delicately to his chest. "I merely meant, my dear Detective, that my bedroom is not a place to be entered by force."
"Who said anything about your bedroom?!" Leon exploded. "Go to bed like a good protected witness and let me sleep!"
"As you wish," D said, retreating to another ornate doorway. He flipped one switch near the door and most of the lights in the room went out, leaving the room bathed in the soft amber glow of a solitary lamp. "The switch for that lamp is over there," D said. In that light, standing there, he only made a dark, delicate silhouette in the doorway from whence that low, always-insinuating voice floated back to Leon. "Good night, Detective."
Leon watched the doorway for a moment after D disappeared, frowning gravely. God, why does that guy set me on edge so damn much? Geez... If he didn't act so... and dress so... he probably wouldn't have so damn many problems... The number of times Leon had walked in on someone straddling D, intent on doing him damage of some kind or other--better not to think on that too hard--was altogether too high.
"Whatever," Leon muttered aloud, setting to the task of making up his bed. He started several times at noises, but couldn't see anything. The animals seemed to have retired to the back rooms for the night, though he kept hearing them moving about not far away. Finally, he turned off the lamp and settled himself in for the night.
He was just drifting off to sleep when he felt someone looking at him. Leon's eyes snapped open to find a pair of yellow ones gleaming down at him catlike. Totetsu--as Leon had no doubt it was--was perched atop the back of the sofa. Leon glared back at him, matching stare for stare.
"Alright, you little... goat... thing," Leon whispered. "See this?" He lifted up the corner of his pillow to reveal the handle of his revolver. "I always sleep with it there. I'm a dead shot and a real light sleeper, you get me?"
Totetsu growled, then his eyes disappeared. Leon waited for the sound of four clawed paws hitting the floor behind the sofa, but he heard nothing for a time, then further away, what sounded like retreating human footsteps. He repressed a shiver, then patted his pillow. "A dead shot," he repeated.
Dealings in the pet shop over the next two days were remarkably dull. Count D sold goldfish, cats, a dog, several gerbils, a hamster, and one rare lizard that looked suspicious, but had all the legitimate papers. None of the customers were even remotely shady. Doting parents, cute kids, teenagers looking for something for their girlfriends... Leon was ready to puke. Where the hell was the den of mystery, intrigue and evil he was used to?
By the afternoon of day two, Leon was bored enough to accept a chore or two. Feeding the animals less prone to biting, clawing and maiming was actually sorta fun. In a why-the-hell-am-I-not-at-work?! kinda way. Still, his gut said to stake the place out, and he was going to follow it come hell or hungry furballs.
Jill dropped in that evening with clothes.
"How the hell did you get into my apartment?"
"Hee. Don't ask, you'll be happier. And I told the Chief I saw you yesterday at your place, sick as a dog and puking all over the place. He said to tell you stay the hell away from the station until you're not contagious." She patted him on the shoulder. "Hang in there, Leon. The course of true love never did run smooth, and all that."
"What the hell--?!"
Leon woke up on day three sprawled on the floor with his head pillowed on Kamikaze the Labrador and a huge black Persian cat named Stormbringer on his chest.
"Tea?"
Leon looked blearily up at the tray floating above him. "Mmyeah, I guess... Don't think this guy's getting off me, though."
"Ah." D set down the tray he was holding and crouched down beside him, rubbing the fingers of one hand together. Stormbringer opened one eye at the sound and yawned widely at him. "Come on, Storm-chan," D cooed. "Let's let the nice policeman have his breakfast, alright?" Stormbringer stretched, fanning an impressive set of claws, then rose and moved languidly from Leon's chest to D's arms. "Good girl," D beamed, standing up with her. The cat set up a loud purr as D stroked her.
"'M not just a p'liceman, y'know."
"Of course, I know." D smiled indulgently at Stormbringer, petting her chin. "But she is just a cat, after all."
"Oh, well. Yeah, of course," Leon nodded. "No, wait..." Too early in the morning... just forget it...
"You've set up quite a rapport with some of my pets, haven't you, Detective?"
"Mmgh," Leon said, running one hand through his hair and scratching Kamikaze's head with the other. "Muh. Well. Dogs 'n' cats, I can deal with."
"Surprisingly well, in fact," D looked sincerely pleased. "But then, I suppose it's easy for you to understand each other."
"Screw you," Leon said without feeling. "You say breakfast?"
"Have a seat. It's sugar free in your honour, Detective."
Leon hauled himself upright and into one of the chairs around the tea table. "Thanks..." He reached for his teacup, wishing it was full of coffee, but realizing he was getting used to the lower caffeine dose. Eh... as long as there's some... "An' I thought I told you to lay off with the 'Detective' when I was off-duty."
"Oh, then you are here of your own volition... Leon."
Leon's early-morning fog was lifting, but not quite to the point where he cared much that that had slipped. "Meh," he agreed.
"Hmm." D leaned his head on one hand, regarding Leon with that far-too-charming smile.
"What?" Leon grumbled around a mouthful of toast.
"I have to admit this is the side of you I find so endearing," D said, brushing back a strand of silky black hair to fully reveal both his eyes. That strangely bi-coloured gaze made Leon hot under the collar, but he couldn't look away.
"Which side?"
"The straightforward, honest behaviour of a wild animal. Claiming his territory, in this case, and defending it."
Honest and straightforward, eh? Leon guessed he couldn't complain about that. "I'm not some kinda dog, though."
"Oh, don't be so modest. You do possess the loyalty and bravery of a canine. Though perhaps your territoriality is more befitting a wolf."
Leon finally managed to tear his eyes away and concentrated on his teacup. It was still too early in the morning to take serious offense at much of anything. Especially since the Count loved animals and probably thought it was a compliment.
"However," D continued. "I do wonder that your fellow members of the police force are not missing you."
Leon coughed. "They'll be missing me alright. Chief's gonna have my ass if he figures it out..."
"Figures what out?"
"I told him I was sick."
"Oh, my. And so the human traits resurface."
"Huh." Clicking slowly along, Leon's brain made it to the other part of D's comment. "Wait, shouldn't you be the alpha male around here? I mean, this is your place. What would that mean if I started marking it as mine?" He grinned sleepily over the table at his host, feeling smug.
Count D tapped his bright red lips with one slender finger, gazing upwards as he seemed to ponder this. "Well, let's see. When one territorial animal invades the domain of another, it usually means one of two things: a fight to the death or the initiation of a mating ritual." D looked up at Leon through lowered lashes. "And since you and I have not yet killed each other..."
"Well, I'm stuffed!" Leon declared, standing up. "Y'think the dogs need feeding?"
Leon's third day at the pet shop went much the same as the second, and the fourth passed uneventfully as well. He and Totetsu seemed to have come to an agreement to stay out of each others' way, and Leon had acquired no new bite marks since the first evening. As the fourth day dwindled to a close, Leon was left in the tearoom with Kamikaze, Stormbringer and two little dogs who were all hair called Kocchi and Acchi, if he remembered right, but damned if he knew which was which. The Count had already retired to the back rooms.
Leon finished making up his bed on the floor; he'd rolled straight off the couch too many times and besides, that way there was more room for all the animals who'd decided to sleep with him. It was still early, though, and Leon wasn't ready for bed yet. He flopped down on the sofa and was immediately covered in dogs and cat. "Heh," Leon grinned. "I'm not gonna tell him, but I'm starting to get why D likes to live in a pet store. You guys are pretty good company." It was more cheerful being here, really, than at his own apartment, which was cramped despite being barely furnished, and always deserted. Leon didn't have any neighbours with whom he was on speaking terms and his buddies from the station were good for a drink after work, but they had their own lives. He hadn't brought home a girl in... longer than he'd known D, which was already well over a year. He tried not to think too hard about that. The long and the short of it was that his apartment was a drag, good for nothing except sleeping in. He was still freaked out by the occasional weird pet--especially the reptiles--and he still thought he heard footsteps long after dark--he put them down to D making the rounds of the scarier, back-room animals--but despite that, he'd actually enjoyed the past couple days more than he cared to admit. And that only made it seem more like he was being a slacker sticking around. He hadn't seen jack to vindicate his gut. No one had come back to so much as blink at Count D. And as long as he was here in an unofficial status, he had no right to go snooping around the place looking for drugs or illegal exotics or whatever else. Yeah... it was starting to look like a big waste of time.
Fuck it. Leon huffed. If nothing happens tonight, either, I'm packin' out. Gut be damned...
"I was born into this world to pleasure you," the girl said, weaving her arms around Leon.
Leon was ready to cry he was so happy. This was how things were supposed to be!
"Let me show you," she whispered, placing both palms against his chest and pushing gently. Leon found himself on the ground without remembering the fall, his dream-girl leaning over him. Only now she was not the wavy-haired blonde from a moment ago, but instead an elegant, sloe-eyed beauty with long, layered black hair.
Oh, well, thought Leon. Six of one...
She leaned down towards him, an oddly familiar smile on her face... then climbed onto his chest and started purring.
Huh...?
A splintering crash brought Leon to his senses, sitting up and reaching instinctively for his revolver. He caught Stormbringer as she slid off his chest and set her down carefully. Kamikaze, Acchi and Kocchi were awake and growling next to him. What's going on...?
Then he heard the voices. Not far away, they were coming from the pet shop's foyer. It must've been the front doors I just heard giving way... Talk about your subtle entrances...
"--spread out and search--"
"--fuckin' zoo, g'wan, Paul--"
"--an' haul 'im back--"
Ha! Leon cocked his gun and moved into a crouch. I knew I was right! Ah, shit--I oughta radio for backup or somethin'... "Shit," he whispered aloud. He didn't have a radio, of course, since he wasn't on duty. But his cellphone was somewhere in his stuff... Leon felt around in the darkness, but met only fur, carpet and couch. "Shit, shit..." He thought he could make out at least four distinct voices, and they were getting closer. Nothing for it but the element of surprise, I guess...
Leon reached and found Kamikaze's back with his hand. "Hey, boy, you stay, alright?" he whispered. "And the three of you little guys, too. Stay here." Kamikaze whined. "Stay," Leon repeated. "Those guys're packin', it's no time for you to fight." He patted his gun. "I got this, see?" Wait a minute... why am I explaining... Argh. "Just stay, boys, okay?"
Leon edged quietly to the door at the other end of the room, leading to the salon. The voices sounded fairly far from the door which was just fractionally ajar. Well, now's as good a time as any.
"Drop your weapons and get your hands where I can see 'em!" Leon shouted as he kicked the door open. Three men dressed for stealth were standing near the opposite wall. They turned slowly around to face him. Each held a gun. "Drop 'em!" Leon repeated. Wait, where's the fourth--? He heard a familiar click behind him. Ahhh, shit.
"You first, buddy."
Leon took a careful look over his shoulder, then dropped his piece. "You're the guy from yesterday."
"And who the hell are you?" the man returned. "A friend of the Count?"
"Hardly," Leon said. "What do you want with him, anyway?"
"A chat," said one of the other men. "Paul, why don't you keep an eye on this guy while we go find the Chinaman?"
"Got it."
The other three went into the tearoom and Leon heard them fumbling around for the lights. Hope the animals got outta the way... but the dogs aren't gonna just let these jerks in...
"Hey," the one called Paul waved his gun at Leon. "Up against the wall."
Urgh. Leon backed up as he was told, hands raised. Man, all I need's an opening...
A blood-curdling scream came from the tearoom, followed by a gunshot.
"Huh--?" Paul half-turned to look and in doing so his arm moved, taking his gun's sights off Leon. Leon slid forward, grabbed the man's gun arm and yanked him forward, slamming his elbow into his temple. Paul crumpled, and Leon relieved him of his gun, ran forward and quickly retrieved his own.
Another shot went off in the tearoom, followed by growling and another human yell. Leon crouched low and stuck to the wall as he pushed the doors to the tearoom open. It was still dark inside, lit only by what illumination spilled in from the salon. In the dusky interior, he thought he made out more than three upright figures, but the extras quickly seemed to melt into hanging drapes or furniture.
"Alright, all of you, freeze!" Leon shouted. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that two of the men were standing near him, by the overturned tea-table, and a third was at the opposite end of the room, by the curtained passageway to the inner rooms. The first two were bleeding, one from his left arm and one from his right leg. Leon pointed a gun in each direction. "Don't fucking move, any of you!"
Kamikaze was crouched with hackles raised, snarling behind the two injured men. Stormbringer's yellow eyes glared out from under the sofa. Acchi, Kocchi and the horned silhouette of Totetsu were crouched around the third guy. It was a stand-off.
D must've heard all this... doesn't he have the sense to call the police? ...Then again, it is D... what if he's in one of those comatose trances...?
The furthest guy turned and made a break down the hallway.
"Hey! Fuck it, I told you--!" Leon took aim and shot for one of the guy's legs.
It took him a long moment wondering why the shot had sounded so loud before he registered that he had hit the floor and a moment longer before the burning pain in his left shoulder kicked in. The gun in his left hand had spun away and a boot landed on his right wrist, crushing it painfully and forcing him to let go of the other. Leon bit down on a strangled yell. Fuck... didn't think to check the first guy for another gun... Fuck, fuck...
"My leg! My fuckin' leg!--AGGH! Get offa me, you--!!" Came from the direction of the corridor, where it sounded like Leon had hit his mark and the little pets were making it count. Another shot went off and their growling abated, then retreated.
Leon tried to see what had happened, but just then someone landed their heel heavily on his wounded shoulder. An involuntary yell tore its way out of Leon's throat. He clamped his teeth shut, breathing heavily. Feels like the bone's shot to pieces... Fuck. That. Hurts... The carpet his cheek was pressed into was already soaked with his own blood. Not good... shit.
"Maybe this time you'll sit still when you're told," growled Paul, and ground his heel into Leon's hand. It was almost a relief--it distracted him slightly from his shoulder. That was shortlived--the one standing on it, who appeared to be the ringleader, leaned heavily on his heel.
"Ggnnn--!!" Starbursts of red exploded behind Leon's eyes. Fuckfuckshit, I fucked up... What am I gonna do...? In this position, he could see the guy standing on his hand--Paul, but not the other two. "Look," he ground out. "You bastards made so much noise busting in here, you're gonna have police swarming all over you in no time--ngh!" That had earned him a kick in the ribs from the unseen mug behind him.
"Not in time to save your stupid ass, or his fruitiness the Count," the leader said.
"Hey!" wailed the guy in the corridor. "I'm bleeding, here!"
"Vic, go see what he's whining about. And then go find D!"
"Yeah, boss..." Vic reappeared in front of Leon and moved towards his fallen comrade. He disappeared again from Leon's range of vision. "Oh, gimme a break, he barely nicked you."
"What? Fuck you, motherfucker, you see this shit, I could be crippled--!"
"Don't be such a pussy--"
"Hey, both of you shut the fuck up. Is he gonna bite it?"
"Nah, boss."
"Alright, then Joe, shutcher mouth before I shut it for you, and Vic, go find the Count." Vic's footsteps receded down the hallway.
Shit! Leon cursed his lousy aim and lousier instincts. If D hasn't heard us by now, he must be out of it... I didn't stake the place out for four days just to let these bastards walk in on him and-- Leon tensed his right hand, then yanked it from under Paul's foot with the full strength of his arm. In the split-second that Paul's foot was off the ground, Leon grabbed his ankle and hauled. The man stumbled, and for a moment, in his surprise, his "boss" took some of his weight off Leon's shoulder. It was all the opening Leon needed. With his right hand freed, Leon twisted into position and slammed his palm into the man's knee. It gave with an ugly pop and the man's roar of pain masked Leon's own as he pulled his mangled shoulder out from under him. Before the man could recover, Kamikaze streaked out from behind the sofa and sunk his teeth into his throat. Leon grabbed his gun as he dropped it and swung around just in time to narrowly dodge a shot from Paul. Leon returned fire, catching Paul in the elbow. His gun flew out of his hand, and immediately there was a blur of fur and horns as Totetsu and the two tiny dogs launched themselves at him.
Leon turned towards the corridor to see--inexplicably--Stormbringer sitting on the chest of a very unconscious Joe.
That leaves one more guy-- There was a truly hideous scream from somewhere deeper in the shop. Geezus... maybe he met the rest of the dogs... or somethin' bigger... like a... dragon or somethin'... Leon found he was sitting on the floor before he realized how dizzy he was. He fought to keep sitting, but lost, and found himself staring at the ceiling. From the sounds around him, it seemed that all the mobsters had been subdued. Goddamn... neighbours... wake up'n' callacops, wouldja? Leon thought blearily, closing his eyes.
He thought he heard footsteps, then, around him in the darkness; thought he felt a hand gently touch his head. But it could just have been a muzzle... Good, the animals're safe... they did good, too...
Leon was fading past the very edge of consciousness when at a distance he finally heard a familiar voice.
"--Tetchan?! What's happened?"
Huh, D-- His voice was coming from the direction of the foyer... So D had been out the entire time. Must've been a back door... geez, whatta waste of time, then...
Hurried footsteps were approaching.
"Detective--Leon!" Leon could hear the rustle of silk as the Count knelt down beside him. "Leon!" D repeated urgently. "Are you conscious? I've set off the alarm, there will be an ambulance any moment now. Leon..." Cool, slender fingers brushed Leon's face. They felt pleasant, in stark contrast with the volcanic pain radiating from his shoulder throughout the rest of his body. "Please try to stay awake, I'm going to bind your shoulder, alright? Leon, stay awake..."
Leon vaguely recognized the sound of fabric ripping. He managed to pull an eye open and saw D and several other people leaning over him... he squinted, blinked. No, it was just the pets: the dogs, the cat, and the goat-monster... Leon let his eye fall shut again. "Good," he whispered. "You were all alright..."
Ah, back in the hospital again.
"Can't stay away, can you?" joked a nurse, popping her head into Leon's--thankfully private--room as she went by.
Ha, ha. Veeeery funny. Leon only glowered. It was so, so very unamusing that he was going to be in here for yet another extended recovery. Not even half a year had gone by since his last one. Geh... at least they didn't have to bring my guts in on a tray this time.
Somehow it was still small consolation. His shoulder was badly broken--he was scheduled for surgery on it the next day. On top of it, he had a broken rib and two fractures in his right hand. He was gonna be here a long while. And to top it off, he wouldn't be surprised if Chief Ross made him take this bit of R&R unpaid as punishment for insubordination.
Yes, all in all, he'd been well paid both for being right and for giving a shit whether Count D lived or died.
Fuck it all. I hate my life.
There was a speedy clicking of high heels in the corridor outside. A curly-haired, bespectacled beauty swept into the room. "You are not going to believe this!!"
"Jill! What're you doing--" Leon found himself confronted up close and personal with the morning's headlines.
"Look, look!"
"Too close," Leon protested, trying to grab the newspaper with the tips of his fingers that protruded from his right-hand cast, to no avail. "Put it down, Jill." She spread the paper on his lap. Leon read, "Morelli Gang... Vanishes...! No way! What the hell--?!"
"Dead!" Jill said, too excited to let him keep reading at his own pace. "Down to a man, every last one! And! And!" She stabbed a particular column with one shiny nail.
Leon read the indicated paragraph. "All were found killed as though savaged by a large animal..."
"Forensics didn't turn up so much as a strand of hair or a claw or anything to tell what kind, though. People are talking about bears loose in the city, or escaped lions from the zoo or something, but really, of course, it looks like a hit!" Jill looked excitedly at him.
"D!" Leon growled, surging forward.
"Wah, Leon! What're you doing?!"
"This is Count D's doing! I know it's him, damnit! He's--Oh. Holy. Fuck. God." His rib and his shoulder felt like they were about to come apart. "Fuckfuckfuck." Leon let Jill ease him back into the pillows. "It was D... that bastard... I knew it..."
"Leon... there's no evidence..."
"Evidence?! This has his name written all over it, whaddyou take me for?!"
"Calm down," Jill hissed as a couple nurses peered worriedly in at the door. "Um, he's, uh... just a little excited about the news... he's fine," she assured them. "Geez, Leon, get a grip."
"A grip of some hand-cuffs and a warrant, yeah..."
"You know those investigations never lead anywhere. Besides--"
"The Morellis..." Leon said more calmly. "Seriously... outta this city for good."
"Yeah!" Jill agreed hurriedly. "Really, it's worth celebrating! We've all been wanting to bust them, but couldn't really touch 'em for so long..."
Leon heaved a weighty sigh, face setting into a conflicted scowl. "It's not like I'll miss them, that's for sure. But this isn't exactly..."
"You've gotta admit, everyone's better off this way."
"Maybe. I mean, yeah, but..."
"Well, and when you think about it, none of the incidents you investigated in connection with the pet shop ever involved more than one or two clients, before. And Count D only sells to individual, private clients, anyway, right?"
Leon subsided unhappily. "Yeah... that's right, isn't it?"
Jill smiled at him brightly. "You can keep the paper, you must be bored. I'd better get back to the station. Oh, yeah, the Chief said he's gonna go easy on you this time 'cause Count D put in an official thank-you for your help."
"Great," Leon said, glowering again. Just what I need, a favour from him...
"And he said that if you do it again, he'll bust you down to traffic cop so fast you'll get the bends."
"Swell," Leon grated. He's been waiting to use that one... I know it...
"Well, that's about all the sunshine I've got to spread around here," Jill said. "I'll pop in to see you later, Leon."
"Thanks," Leon said grudgingly. Jill did him plenty of favours, and he knew he would probably be happy to see her later, but he had a feeling any more "sunshine" right now might be the end of him. "See ya 'round."
Jill paused at the door and gave a dreamy sigh. "Still... it's kinda romantic..."
Leon twitched. Don't ask! warned his common sense. Don't ask, don't ask, don't--! "What's romantic?" Damnit, why don't I ever listen to me?
"Well," Jill had one hand to her cheek as she looked back at him, a soft smile on her face. "If Count D did have anything to do with this, for him to break his usual rules, he must have been awfully angry about something." She gave Leon a significant look, then ducked out of the room and closed the door.
Leon blinked dumbly at the closed door. "What? What??" Leon felt himself slowly turning red. I don't know what the hell she meant, he insisted weakly to himself. Not even the other half of his brain bought it. Leon growled. Fuck. "If it was him... If. If," Leon muttered, hoping the conditional would stick. "Only thing he'd care about is his shop getting busted up, anyway..." Fuck. "Yeah..."
~Owari~
--Utopian Trunks
February 14, 2004
Endnote: Oh, yeah--the Macaron d'Or actually exists. A certain lucky so-and-so who went to Paris this past Christmastime ended up standing in line for it because he believed the hype, and brought it back for us. That's actually why this fic ended up getting written. For the record, the chocolate one was the best.
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