18-May-2002

Breakdown: An Alternate Universe Weiss Kreutz Fanfic
by Nixerchan and bonnejeanne

Contact: nixerchan@aol.com and bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
Category: AU
Pairings: Various, or to put it another way, most of them ^__^;;
Warnings: Weird premise, weird psychic powers, probably confusing plot, um, possibly some OOC, some violence, probably gratuitous use of pointless Japanese, what else... oh yeah, LEMON from time to time... poor Nixers, I'm such a corrupting influence... ^__~
Rating: NC-17

SUMMARY/PREMISE: What if the Weiss boys actually possessed psychic powers similar to Schwartz, which had been suppressed or erased from their memories?

AU TIMELINE: Picks up *almost* at the end of the OAV, just after the death of Gen. Norman Powell.

/something/ - may indicate thoughts, telepathy or other psychic contact.
'something' - indicates just thoughts.

Chapter 1: Breakdown (continued)

//There was something wrong. This time when he thrust the katana, he felt flesh, felt the blade nicking and sliding along ribs instead of the padding Omi was supposed to be wearing. Felt the dull, moist sucking sensation as he pulled the blade out and saw the shock in eyes that began to dull too realistically...

Ken's eyes went wide, then blank, as his hand raised and turned the last remaining blade of the bugnuks, still dripping Aya's lifesblood, towards his own abdomen...//

"NO!!!!" Aya screamed as he came bolt upright on the bed, heart pounding hard enough to feel like thunder in his chest as sweat beaded off his skin.

The boy next to him jerked awake in reflex to the commotion. The delay presented by the cocoon of blankets he'd wrapped himself in gave Ken's senses just enough time to register that there was only one occupant, the invited one. He released all the tension in one boneless moment, before pushing himself up onto one elbow. "You all right?" he asked.

Aya's shoulders moved as he gasped in deeper breaths, covering his face with his hand for a moment while he fought for what was real and what was not, and tried to gather the pieces of his composure. They were slippery and hard to grasp. He couldn't quite stop himself from needing to look at the one beside him, get the reassurance that he was there, alive, whole...

Grasping Ken's shoulders he stared into his shadowed eyes, night vision leaching the color from them. It was well before dawn. Even trying to separate dream from reality, the dream almost made more sense in some ways. Reality seemed too unreal. Not enough pieces. That last inch of his paranoia confirmed... everything turned upside down into an all too familiar shape. Irresistible mental images of death and betrayal, loss of everything...

Hands tightening, Aya leaned forward abruptly and found Ken's mouth with his, seeking warmth, seeking something he'd kept deeply buried now at this moment before it was too late. His lips pressed Ken's apart and his tongue sought entry, pushing for as much as he could get, any response better than none.

After a moment of frozen hesitation, Aya felt a hand curling into his red hair, with a grip that was almost at the edge of pulling.

Instead of pulling himself back and away, Ken threw himself into it, letting all the confusion, desperation and tragedy out into it. There was a part of him that wanted to reassure, to sooth, that could only find purchase around the edges, everything else was too fresh, too new. When he fell back, he brought Aya with him.

The redhead needed no coaxing, pushing Ken deeper into the bed, pressing him down, the kiss deepening until it felt as if Aya was going to crawl down his throat and devour him from the inside. Aya's hands found Ken's wrists and fastened on them, pulling them up to hold against the mattress on either side of him. The swordsman's body pressed down on the length of him, covers still tangled between them. His hips ground down through the layers, leaving no open questions about what he was seeking.

Ken broke the kiss with a hissed indrawn breath. He pushed his head back, eyes shut tight and body arched, meeting instinctively. The muscles in his arms tightened, testing. Normally, he'd have the upper hand in brute strength, but position and leverage gave another all the advantages here. The assassin's lips quirked, just slightly. Not all the advantages ceded yet.

Ken recaptured Aya's lips, coaxing through touch, and a leg between Aya's found just enough give in the blankets to press.

An involuntary groan from Aya's throat, muffled in the kiss, signaled that Ken was on target. The kiss reversed, the redhead once again ravaging his mouth, not coaxing but demanding. Only after getting the response he sought did Aya lift his head, opening his eyes to look down, his eyes as deadly as Ken had ever seen them. Suddenly Ken realized that what he was seeing in them wasn't ice. It was heat tuned to an intensity that balanced on the edge of scary.

Licking his lips, Aya's eyes closed for a moment and then opened, his hands on Ken's wrists tightening, then relaxing finally. However he did not relinquish his position.

"So what was it?" One of Ken's wrists slid free of the loose hold, moving to pull at the tangle of blankets between them. The question was still low, short on breath, but held an uncertain note to it.

It would have been simpler to answer the question. But the answer to the question wasn't the answer to what was happening, that was one thing, maybe one of the only things Aya was reasonably certain of. He reached down and caught Ken's hand again, drawing it back up. He bent down to find Ken's lips again, but this time went more slowly, brushing them, then running his tongue over each surface and finally taking another full mouthed kiss. The pace had moved back a bit from 'train wreck' but it was a conscious throttling back of something that was still very much present. Lifting his head after a little while, he looked down and spoke, his words kept low with some effort.

"I'm tired of watching."

It took a moment for the answer to make sense, and to fish the question back into memory. Even abstract it fit, and settled easily. The dark haired assassin's eyes closed with a soft exhale. "Die on me and I'll drag you back," the tone managed to be serious despite curved lips.

The face above him did not come close to cracking a smile. "Die on me and I'll follow you and make sure you end up in hell." Bending again, Aya took another kiss, then his hands relaxed, releasing Ken's wrists. He leaned back a little on one side just enough to reach down and pull the blankets from between them.

The boy beneath him snorted, "Apparently, I've already got a jump on the fire thing, so either way, we should be okay." Ken pushed up the short distance to return the favor of a kiss or two, hand sliding down the swordsman's face and neck with slow deliberation. It was all too surreal, nothing had clicked back into reality since the whole charade had started in full. He half expected it all to snap out of existence, find that he'd just dazed off while Aya was explaining their plan to turn the tables and find Manx.

Somehow, the eyes he imagined reprimanding him for inattention again weren't cold.

In spite of his words, those amethyst eyes *were* watching him, intently, even as they lidded and Aya's head turned slightly into the touch. Everything he'd been drawn to for such a long time was right here. He *was* tired of *just* watching. With logic turning on its head in the last twenty four hours there was too little to resume discipline. "We're fucked either way," he muttered, not paying attention to his own words. "I want something before I go."

The first brought a short, muffled laugh from the other assassin. Ken pushed up and over, not so much flipping the swordsman as trading positions with him. He sat back, straddling Aya, to continue the wandering path his hands had taken. They skimmed quickly over the top of his shirt to slid under the hem. There was a satisfaction in just a few inches, sin to skin. It was hard to remember the last time.. short of this even, when he'd even brushed by Aya accidentally... to the point where the heat, solidity and responsiveness beneath his fingers was almost a surprise.

Ken's eyes flicked up to meet Aya's. "Name it then."

Aya's eyes narrowed, even as his body warmed to the one over it, as if it, rather than he, knew exactly what was going on and was more than ready. "Ken Hidaka."

Ken's hands found Aya's shoulder's pushing him into the mattress as he leaned down, initiating a kiss as reckless as their first. There wasn't any clear direction, any other grounding for the flood. It was an equally light-headed sensation of being hopelessly overwhelmed, in the face of change that wouldn't slow down and the simple offering of something he hadn't quite known until then how long he'd been waiting.

In a break for air, he let the rest of it go and just grinned at Aya, "Bout damned time you asked."

Aya's hands fastened on Ken's waist firmly. The grin on the face of the boy above him answered a need he was so used to ignoring that receiving it almost caused him to shiver. He deliberately tumbled them over again, regaining the upper position. "I had to wait for the line to go down," he growled, and kissed Ken's mouth, then nudged his chin up to fasten his lips on the boy's collarbone, lathing and nipping it hungrily.

Ken bowed a little, exposing his neck and increasing the contact between them. Far from docile, his hands raked down Aya's back, and at the lowest point pushing him closer. "It's a good thing then," the brunette said, a small sound accompanying it in encouragement of Aya's actions. "Wasn't sure.. you knew what the hell you were doing to me today."

Aya's head lifted, eyes fastening on Ken's as he began to work the shirt off the other boy. "What was I doing?"

"Dunno," Ken admitted, lifting his arms to help things along. "Picking up on what I wanted?" He tugged at Aya's shirt, bunching it up from behind around the shoulder blades. "I don't know how this works."

You wanted someone else, Aya thought. He realized he was weary to the bone and not a little angry at having to watch Ken lose it over someone only to get hurt. Having to watch, and do nothing. He lifted his arms to allow the shirt to come off, his eyes never leaving Ken's but for the briefest instant when the material intervened. Then his hands spread across the other boy's chest, seeking the widest contact with now bared skin. "How what works?"

"Anything," Ken settled on, avoiding specifics. If it wasn't obvious that was an answer enough. He was having enough of a time concentrating on just breathing. "Through a looking glass," he murmured breathing it against Aya's skin. His hand reached between them and worked on the fastenings to Aya's pants.

Aya leaned back without losing contact with his hands, just running them down to Ken's waist, giving the boy access to the clothing he was trying to open. He couldn't quite keep a scowl entirely off of his face. Something that had come to him while he'd worked out earlier returned. "You said something about, uh, 'reading in' and how far. I didn't get it when you said it. You meant like... reading thoughts? I don't get those. Something like that with Birman but it was different. I can't... read you." He thrust it out there as a reassurance he had a vague sense might be needed. He didn't really understand why Ken was this willing anyway, considering what he certainly *could* do, and had done. But he wasn't going to go backwards, not now.

The hands on the buttons of his pants stilled as Aya spoke. Ken nodded slowly, considering. He'd envisioned what force was behind Aya and Birman's conversation was more of Schuldig's nature. A passing wisp of irony brought a realization of just how much both of them had been gambling... no, how much Aya had been. /Tired of watching./

Ken put his hand to Aya's shoulder and flipped him, following easily. Utilizing the split second he knew he had, he finished the job he'd started, his hand sliding into the opening, and curling his fingers around him.

Aya groaned, his eyes closing involuntarily as he felt the strong grip around his aching flesh. It was already more than halfway there and that touch quickly escalated the erection to full. Looking up, he licked his lips, even as his hands dug at the front of Ken's jeans. "You want the lead?" he murmured, a little shocked at himself for the question, and not sure what he'd do about either answer.

"If you're offering," Ken gave a little sigh as the pressure of denim against his skin was relieved. He set his own position a little more firmly and ran his finger's experimentally along Aya's length. "It's a long time till morning."

Another groan escaped the redhead's lips. He had to stop for a second and take a couple of deep breaths before he could direct his own slender fingers to free the prize they were seeking in the other boy's pants. "Not... offering," he managed through his teeth. "Allowing... if it's what you want..."

"Don't," Ken replied, leaving Aya's reach long enough to yank off the clothing in the way, and divest himself of his own jeans. Even in the half light of the streetlights outside the apartment, the boy was still bright against the disarray of blankets beneath them, the alabaster skin seeming to take up all the light it was offered. He ran a hand down Aya's side, resting at the hard pane of hips. "Not this time."

The redhead pulled Ken into his arms and against his body, feeling the other boy down the length of him with a soft intake of breath. Arms tightening, he took a deep kiss, letting it linger as his body moved along the other, the friction heating them both up. Lifting his head, he looked into Ken's eyes for a moment even as his breath began coming in slow pants. There were things visible in his eyes that Ken had never seen before. Heat and passion, need and desire, but something else as well. "Wish I *could* read minds," he muttered. His hands smoothed along Ken's back and down across his hips, relishing the curve and taking it slowly.

"Wouldn't help," Ken managed. The building tension this time was more than welcome, he pressed his lips to what skin he could find, tongue darting out for a taste, and hands slid along what purchase they could find, echoing a little restlessness at the pace. "Don't know what I'm thinking either."

A growl answered the remark. Aya slid a hand up into Ken's thick hair and pulled his head back, taking the exposed skin of his neck to lick and suck possessively. Falling back on his instincts and the urging of his own need, he ran his hands all over the other boy, ending with several firm strokes to his erect flesh, before he began turning him over, urging him onto his stomach.

Already more than willing in the wake of the attention, Ken followed the coaxing, only briefly having to quell the urge to draw out the pseudo struggle of only a few minutes earlier. Flushed with heat and to the point even the contact of sheets ripped an involuntary sound from the back of his throat, he managed to simply hiss, "Hurry up."

He felt hands move along his back, sliding along muscle and flesh appreciatively. Then those hands fastened on his hips and pulled him up onto his knees. One long arm pressed his shoulders down, keeping his flushed cheek against the pillows. "Shut up, Hidaka, I gave you your chance to run things," Aya murmured, but the tone wasn't as harsh as the words might have implied. There was a deep throbbing note in it of something emerging that had been suppressed for a dangerously long time.

The next thing Ken felt was breath and then a warm tongue gliding along the valley of his rear. Holding Ken firmly with one hand on his shoulders and the other gripping the side of his hip, Aya pressed his face against the curves of the other boy's rear and proceeded to explore, his tongue finding the tight opening and squirming against it until it spasmed and let him enter.

Unable to wrest free or push back, Ken's fingers clawed into the bed sheets. He was breathing in short gasps, as if the cooler air in the room could bring back an edge of internal control. A soft, aborted curse was the only variation in a pattern of hitched noises, stopping somewhere in the throat.

Not content with simply gaining access, Aya held Ken for several long moments as he sent a series of sensations through the boy's body, certainly enough to hint that he wasn't inexperienced in what he was doing. Feeling the tension in the body under him increase even as the area of his attention almost instinctively relaxed, he leaned back finally, shifting the hand at Ken's hip to help him position, before pushing slowly inside. A low groan forced itself out of him as he seated himself. The pressure against Ken's shoulders lifted as that hand moved back to encircle his waist, taking Ken's erection in a careful grip.

At the release of pressure Ken got his hands under him just enough to push back hard, taking Aya deeper suddenly. He clenched his muscles, once, hard around Aya in response to the hand on his erection. Head low so that his forehead still skimmed the sheets, he shifted his feet as well, ready to take the rhythm if that was what was needed to finish this.

A soft hiss answered the gripping of his body around Aya, and an answering squeeze to his own flesh. Leaning down to nip Ken's back lightly, Aya slid out a little and then thrust back in deeply, within a few moments finding a tempo that was fast and deep, matching with strokes to Ken's throbbing flesh.

Ken didn't, couldn't, last long under the double stimulus. His climax came suddenly, wracking his whole body at once. He barely had any recognition of his own voice when he screamed, or even Aya's name on it.

It all seemed to happen at once, and Aya never knew if it was the warm body around him reacting, the feeling of hot wetness on his hand, or the sound of his name and the timbre of the cry that crashed him over the precipice, it could have easily been all three. He continued to thrust as his body gave up its fluid, slowing finally to stop, panting, his forehead against Ken's back. Sliding both arms around the other boy he tightened them, cutting off Ken's air supply for a moment before he relaxed. Easing back, he spilled onto his side as his muscles tried to flow into a liquid state.

Aya only received a lazy elbow in his side in protest for cramped ribs. Ken simply slid down onto his stomach again, only a slight grimace and a resolution for the immediate morning were any signs of him giving up that boneless state. A similarly lazy hand found its way along Aya's side and rested there, taking in what contact had been missing from their earlier attempt at sleep.

Aya forced energy into his limbs enough to turn Ken to face him, side by side, and pull him closer. He reach up and cupped his hand around Ken's face, his thumb brushing the other boy's lower lip lightly. There was something beating to get out through his eyes but it was apparently too much to be forced into the limitation of words and after a moment his eyes closed, as if trying to shutter it back inside.

Chapter 2: Liberty

Finding Omi waiting for him by the mobile home wasn't remotely a surprise, nor was the look the boy was giving him unexpected in the slightest. However none of the mental preparation Youji'd done staved off an overwhelming need for a cigarette, or to get drunk first, preferably both. This would have been much easier if he'd managed to come back with Ken and Aya. Or if Ken hadn't flipped like that, all of his current problems would be solved.

Manx turned to part with the former detective, "Kaori officially never awoke from her coma and didn't leave the hospital room," she said, her voice raised to include Omi in the announcement. "I've got to check in with Birman, you know how to contact me if further problems arise, Youji. Preferably earlier than the last time, hmm?" She gave the taller assassin a sweet smile, absolutely ignoring the annoyed scowl.

Youji glanced down at Omi, and pushed up his shades. "Come on, we might as well get going. It's just us tonight."

The boy watched the exchange with hyper awareness. His eyes tracked Youji like radar. "What do you mean, just us? Where are Aya and Ken?"

"They took a different way," Youji said, internally weighing more than a few choices. He opened the passenger side door for Omi and made a wide 'after you' gesture. "Ken was having some trouble, and you know Aya, my way or no way."

The blue eyes never left Youji's face as Omi jumped into the seat. He waited for Youji to go around and get in the driver's side. "What kind of trouble?"

Youji closed the door and gave himself a little time with getting the engine started and the RV moving. As far as he was concerned this was long in coming anyway, he half expected it after the Creepers. But both of them at once? Kritiker's cats weren't going back in the bag. It was something of a relief. "Full break down, flipped his lid pretty impressively. We didn't need everyone getting caught in the crossfire," Youji sank a little farther back in his seat, letting some of the worry show. It was no use to hide it, Omi probably already knew. "He should be okay."

Omi's eyes widened and he grabbed for the latch of the RV door, even though the vehicle was starting to roll. "What?!! Where is he?!" Only hesitating for an answer before jumping out of the vehicle if he didn't get one quick.

Youji immediately put on the brakes and he reached across Omi to catch the door on its outward swing. "I don't know, and get back in here!" Resolving something internally, he relinquished the door and drew back. "I need you to help me find them before anyone else does."

That caused an instant reaction as Omi turned quickly, staring at him. The most discomfiting thing was the bright intelligence in those wide blue eyes. If Youji was expecting his announcement to be followed by a barrage of questions he was about to be surprised. There was a long moment of silence and then Omi said, "I'm starving. The only place open this late is pizza."

At the moment, Youji was glad for the partial mask of the sunglasses. It wasn't clear whether he should regard the reaction with trepidation or relief, but it was better than the kid trying to leap from the RV. "No mushrooms," he agreed, letting off the brake again.

Omi nodded and then twisted to slip between the seats. "Changing clothes," he called over his shoulder. It made sense, this ones they were both wearing were still covered with fake blood.

The former detective nodded, glancing up into the rearview mirror, just to be sure the boy wasn't considering the back door.

He was treated to an eyeful of Omi-flesh as the boy shed his garments like a dog shedding water. Grabbing a box of pre-moistened towels, he did a quick clean-up and pulled spare shorts and shirt from a locker, then fresh socks and another pair of athletic shoes. Over his shoulder he said, "Go to that new place. They were better, and they have a buy one get one free thing on now."

"Only better for now," Youji replied keeping as much attention as he could on the road. "Just wait till they get established and cheap like everywhere else." He took the turns easy and rerouted a bit. The suggested parlor was closer anyway.

Omi finished his redressing by tucking a set of weapons away reflexively and then sliding back into the passenger seat. "Put the pedal down, I'm hungry!"

A tawny eyebrow arched above the rim of his glasses, but Youji obliged easily. The motor paused a second before kicking up a gear noisily. "Can you do it without using your lap..."

A hand shot out and covered Youji's mouth. Omi left it there long enough to get his point across. "Look at you, you're a great one to talk about tight pants," he said cheerfully. "These are comfortable. You shouldn't be looking anyway, you only like girls over 18 remember?"

Youji hardly paused, keeping his self berrations for another time. "I'm wounded, bishounen. Here I'm trying to help your fashion sense a little.."

"Wasn't it you who said that if you wanted it to sell you have to put it in the front window?" Omi pouted, his voice maintaining the tone of light banter. His eyes however looked steadily back into Youji's, whenever he took them off the road.

"If you want it that badly, I'm sure most of your fanclub won't need even half the encouragement." Pulling into the main strip, Youji picked out a likely match for their destination. "Besides, it's the art of framing, with those pants you might as well keep your fly down." Voice raised just enough to tease, he put the RV into park in the nearly deserted lot and opened the door.

"Youji!" Omi protested, with a little laugh. "Hey how long has it been making that noise - it's not the brakes... maybe the axel..."

Jumping out, he walked around the RV to the back and peered underneath as if checking something. In fact, he got down on his back and pulled himself under the vehicle. There were some mechanical noises and then he emerged, saying, "I think that's got it but we should have it serviced." He held one arm against his chest. As he got up, Youji could see that he had something flat and square under his shirt. It was about the size of a laptop computer.

Acting as if he was simply dusting his clothes and keeping his body between the RV and the package, he moved towards the door of the restaurant. "Ok order already! Two with everything except mushrooms."

"Pushy, pushy," Youji drawled, but nevertheless opened the door for both of them, keeping himself between Omi and view of the parking lot as much as could be assumed natural. Giving the order quickly to a washed out looking waiter, he pointed back to an isolated table at the far end of the room.

The boy trotted back to the indicated booth, sliding back into the seat. He slid the package out from under his shirt under the table and set it on the seat beside him. The booth had a music station with selections from an MP3 server. Punching keys on the music station's console, he soon had some music blaring out of the speakers.

In contrast with the jumpy tempo of the music, he looked over at Youji with a dead serious expression. "Yes I can find them," he said. "Now tell me what the heck is going on."

Youji sighed, trying to put together some coherent explanation. "Damn, this is going to be difficult," he complained out loud, rubbing the side of his face. "Okay, I'll put it this way. Kritiker wouldn't have known about Schwartz for so long and not have developed something of a counteragent to them, perhaps not a match, but different enough to give an edge even in day to day situations. It was billed within Kritiker as a last resort, if mundane means wouldn't work against them, and then buried." Youji shrugged, but removed his sunglasses, folding them with two sharp clicks. "The only reason I know about it was I was investigating it before I was conscripted into service. I hope you're following to here, because I don't think there's a lot of time anyway."

Omi frowned. He was used to taking puzzles with few pieces and putting them together. This one was... well if he kept it abstract in his head, it wasn't that hard really. It was only when he brought it away from the abstract and into the realm of reality that it got... difficult.

Fixing on something more tangible, he said, "You don't really know if Ken is ok, do you? Or was that about the break down a lie... too?"

The older man flinched imperceptibly at the addenda. "No it was true, and he was... better by the time I left. I don't know about the long term, or even if they got out."

The frown didn't smooth out. "If... if... what..." Omi tried a couple of false starts. "What happens if Kritiker finds them first?"

This brought another sigh and Youji fished around in his jacket for a box of cigarettes. "They'll decide one of two things, they'll either arrange for an accident," for both of them, he reminded himself. What Aya managed, seemingly without effort after he'd broken whatever block he had on it, was next to terrifying. Now Omi too, just by telling him this. "Or you won't see them for some span of time and they'd be back to normal... or as close as those two get." His fingers only finding an empty wrapper, he crushed it irritably in one hand and tossed it to the side.

A teenaged girl appeared with the pizza, slapping the two trays down on the table. She smiled at Omi but he wasn't paying any attention and she shrugged and moved off, popping her gum.

Reaching out, Omi picked up a slice of the pizza and started eating it, to all appearances, actually as hungry as he'd said earlier.

"Conditioning," he mumbled, chewing the pizza. He glanced at Youji. Finishing the slice, he picked up another. He looked at the older man directly. "Can I trust you, Youji-kun? Can we?"

Youji picked up a slice of pizza from his side and nibbled at it disinterestedly. "After what I've just done, I won't have the benefit of the second option," he replied, shrugging. "I've disagreed with a lot from the start, but stuck with it only as long as it seemed to be more of a benefit to you three than a danger. But, I honestly wouldn't blame you if you took the info and split."

Omi devoured the second piece of pizza within seconds after Youji stopped speaking. Picking up a third, he said, "All you had to do was say 'yes', Youji-kun." The look he gave the older man was as clear as a bell.

"Che," Youji said, a ghost of his usual wry smirk on his face. "Where'd be the drama in that?"

"I think we got drama enough as it is," the younger boy snorted softly, going for number four. "It's going to be tough going against Kritiker," he said, stating the obvious only after giving it his full assessment. There was something about the tone of his voice that indicated it wasn't the first time he'd considered it. There was also a rather un-innocent sense of pleasure mingled into it.

"A challenge of your caliber, at last," there was a undertone of fondness in the dry remark. "But I'd like to just get the other two and disappear as far as we can."

Omi looked steadily back, selecting a fifth slice. This one went a bit slower though. "You don't really think that will work, do you? We can't hide from Kritiker for long. We'll have to take them out."

"I don't but they aren't the only concern either," Youji said, setting aside the crust of his first slice. "Put aside logic for a couple of seconds. Did you feel anything three or four minutes after I sent you out?"

Omi looked back steadily, eating the crust of his fifth piece. "Not much. Manx was blanking me."

Youji took his turn at watching Omi instead. There were times when the facade cracked wide open. Youji shook his head. "I have less explaining to do than I thought then," he shrugged, "Good, you can help while Aya's trying to throttle me."

Omi smiled angelically. "Ok. But you still have explaining to do. I don't know exactly what this all is. I've just known for a while that... that there were things they weren't telling us. Important things. You know I don't like having questions with no answers." He picked up a sixth piece of pizza and nibbled at it. "After Persia... I've been doing some self-hypnosis. My memory loss wasn't all traumatic. It pissed me off."

"I don't doubt it," Youji said, nothing condescending about the tone at all. /At least I got a choice, the choice sucked, but still./ "I don't know the extent on the other two, I'd imagine Aya's been touched the least, maybe even just once by Birman when we first met him."

Picking a couple of toppings off the half eaten sixth slice, Omi considered. The next question was pure curiosity. "What... do they do?"

"Ken's a high level pyrokinetic, only warning with him is cold. Aya's a controller - he can basically take over the mental and physical actions of any single person within a certain proximity. You don't get any warning with him." Youji picked a few pepperoni from the cooling cheese. "Faced with very dangerous talents, they decided to bury them instead of showing any of you how to use them, figuring they'd show up in extreme situations. Which leads to today's fiasco." Youji's tone was thick with distaste and a little self recrimination.

Omi's eyes widened as he listened closely. "Huh. And you got out of the room," he muttered aloud. Then he grinned, a very mischievous expression. Unwrapping the napkin from the ignored silverware, he pulled a piece out and set it on the table. "Do something for me, Youji-kun... please? Bend the spoon..."

The taller man threw Omi a 'don't even try /that/ act' look. Obligingly, however, the spoon elongated a little, loosing the curved dip, then tied itself into a fancy bow without ever leaving the surface.

"Honestly, forks are more fun," Youji said, acting affronted.

Omi grinned delightedly, picking up the pretzeled utensil and examining it with a thrilled expression before slipping it in his pocket. "Eat you heart out, Amazing Kreskin!" he said. "But spoons... are just traditional!" With a wink, he then nodded towards the waitress. "For your next trick, keep her from coming over here for a few minutes," he said, pulling the laptop around to the side of the booth near the wall. He opened it and then pulled a tiny screwdriver out of a pocket and started unscrewing the side of the music station.

"I think my book has room for another phone number," Youji replied sliding out of his seat gracefully. As he walked away, Omi could hear the beginnings of a usual line, "Ojou-sama, I've been thinking over dinner that I need to offer up an apology for my friend's brush off..."

He didn't end up having to make time with the gum-chewing waitress for more than ten minutes. Omi suddenly appeared and gave him a nudge. "Hey, time to go - or give me the keys already..."

"Ah the impatience of youth," Youji said, just enough purr in his voice to make the waitress smile without thinking about the words at all. The taller man 'let' himself be led towards the door.

Omi strolled out happily enough, a large pizza box under one arm. "I'm beat. We need to get some rest I guess if I'm going to make it to class tomorrow. Where are we meeting Aya and Ken-kun?"

"Somewhere out of the way, I don't think anything's too set yet on plans." Youji shrugged, opening and sliding his sunglasses up his nose.

"Okay, why don't you park it in the Osawara division. That's close enough for me to catch a bus in the morning," Omi suggested, with a convincing yawn.

"Seems reasonable enough," Youji replied, opening up the door to the RV and swung up to his seat. "Might find a hotel in the area until the next mission gets in, the beds in here are hell on my back."

"Sugoi!" Omi murmured, curling up in the passenger seat after carefully putting the pizza box underneath it. "Wake me when you find one."

TBC

Breakdown: Part 3

Love & Gundams