13-Aug-2003
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 and German, 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 21: Birds in the Hand and Bush
Youji's preparation for the meeting barely consisted of dragging his fingers through his hair and a quick, if luckless search for his overcoat. It worked out in fine succession, a mother of all hangovers, a very odd conversation with a similarly odd man, not enough coffee and no where near enough whiskey in it, and an unexpected and incredibly unavoidable need for a cold shower. The recognition for the reason didn't help matters really.
Nor did being woken up to be told of the existence of the meeting by a telepath he didn't like much to begin with and wasn't endearing himself with jokes at his expense.
So, late and looking less than his best was the best they were getting. That much he'd decided, not surprised in the least when he was the last one to find a spot (just barely clear of the door, along the wall). As far as he was concerned, they should consider themselves lucky he was gracing them with his presence at all.
A mental snicker. /We're honored, I'm sure./ Youji quite ceremoniously flipped the telepath off.
Omi's eyes had been on the tall blond from his entrance. Exercising some restraint, he resisted the urge to send something in the way for comfort to the man. He was *trying* to learn, anyway.
"First order of business... house rules. I won't bother with the ones we can all assume are known, like no compromising security. Rule: no over-taxing the telepath. He's too important to me. Next: no over-taxing any of you. And: everyone gets a crash course in blocks. Mental *and* emotional." Crawford started without waiting for any niceties.
"Any questions? No? Good. We have two problems. Kritiker is the lesser problem, but nuisances can be deadly. And they are connected to our main problem. And it will be some time before we are ready to deal with Main Problem, although I'm pleasantly surprised by the speed of progress, taking into account all the setbacks included. Some of those have actually pushed us forward. But this group is still quite a distance from being able to act as a unit."
The American's delivery was almost off-handed, needing little emphasis to keep the attention of all in the room. For someone who was almost professionally nondescript, he had the innate ability to get attention when he required it.
Aya found himself experiencing a certain amount of surprise at how much the precog's assessment matched his own.
"Your problem," Crawford said, turning his gaze on Aya. "We've taken her before, we can certainly do so again. However, Kritiker will be acting apparently on their own behalf, but no doubt closely monitored and probably used by Others. This requires a recon in advance of the extraction."
"So we know where she is?" Ken looked up, glancing between Crawford and Aya.
Aya nodded. "She's at Momoe's country place."
"Seems a little too lucky, doesn't it?" Youji said warily.
"If they know where she is, they don't have to do anything. Just wait. But if they get tired of waiting..." Aya did not finish the thought, he considered it too obvious. Just as obvious as his near inability to leave her vulnerably out in the open.
Schuldig snorted. "They get tired of waiting and you turn into a liability." He glanced away from Aya to Crawford. He shrugged. "I say we get her out and get this over with."
The American acknowledged the 'vote' with a look. "There are still things we don't know and can't easily find out without another, for want of a better world, skirmish. First check it out. Defensive strikes will never be as effective as offensive ones."
"So who goes, and when?" Omi asked. He glanced around. "I'm up for it."
Nagi shrugged. "Both then," he said.
Youji's "I'm out," was at nearly the same time as Ken's "I'm up for it." With a glance over at Siberian, Youji elaborated, "The only lady involved is off limits on threat of death."
Omi's eyes fastened on the older blond but he said nothing. /He thinks... if he goes, she'll get hurt./
Aya glanced at Youji and did not comment.
/Bad luck and paranoia don't mix well,/ Nagi replied.
Omi sighed inwardly and seemed to take a moment to take comfort from the presence he could reach so easily.
The attention Youji was spared, however, was turned in another direction as Aya looked at Schuldig.
The telepath didn't miss the regard, even as he seemed to be putting his attention into watching the silent exchanges around the room. "So, think you've got enough help?" Schuldig asked, an almost sparing glance towards Aya with the words.
"Oracle said a recon. You know we need you." Aya didn't bother to mince words.
The German smirked. "Then me and your hacker is all that's required, isn't it? /Doesn't sound like you're lining up for just a recon./ The thought was directly to Aya.
/I'm lining up for whatever we find./ "I'd rather have Siberian and Prodigy there if needed, than risk being unprepared."
/Such wonderful optimism./ It came back with a snicker and the caress of a growing fondness. "Whatever," the German answered out loud.
"First we relocate," Crawford said. "We'll be leaving here in two hours."
Rent, deposit and silence were all bought with simple, untraceable cash, and quite a lot of it. The building was chosen in a random seeming style amongst many in the residential district of one of the major business hubs of the city, and the rent paid was sufficient to vacate the entire top floor for their own use. Normally used for executive purposes, there was both a public and private elevator, the latter going directly to a sublevel parking lot with no stops.
Though usually reserved for the more discreet business engagements, the quarters provided were lacking in no necessity and quite a few frivolities.
This time there was no attempt on anyone's part to keep the two groups discretely separated. Areas were chosen and staked out according to preference. The private access was put to use as the youngest members of the group were sent out for supplies.
The room Crawford selected was an executive office, complete with a small bedroom attached, shower, kitchenette. On another part of the floor, a small gym complete with adjoining spa provided Aya with the practice space he'd been quietly looking for.
Upon receiving the assignment to retrieve supplies, Omi assented with a resigned shrug to Nagi - /I knew *someone* was going to remember that standard 'make the youngest do the grunt work.'/
/It's universal... besides, do you really want to know what Schuldig or Farfarello tend to come back with if you send them out with money?/
Omi didn't bother to restrain his grin. /I take it the answer is no./ Then, "We need wheels."
Looking through the new quarters until he found Youji, the younger blond seized the older assassin's hand and pulled. "We need a driver. You're elected."
Having found what he'd deemed the most posh living quarters and most comfortable bedroom, Youji wasn't noticeably thrilled about leaving before he'd settled in enough to claim it as his. In the two youngest members' tow, he didn't need to pause to send a cut bit of wire around the doorknob, both as a marker and to keep it shut. "Mou, elected would imply some democracy," Youji replied, a bit of his lighter tone returning to it.
"Ah come on, this way you get to make sure and get something you like," Omi suggested. In the process of moving, they'd managed to lose and acquire several vehicles. Tossing the keys of the nicest, appropriated from Crawford upon receiving the assignment, to Youji, he herded the taller blond into the private elevator, snagging Prodigy's hand along the way.
The Kritiker agent made his way quickly to his post along the outer walls of the house, taking a few moments to glance over the expansive and apparently well tended garden. Lt. Biji was not happy about leaving his comfortable intelligence job, field work was not at all in his nature, but he seemed to always get pulled when the ranks got thin over a particular job. In this case, boring perimeter work of some retired agent's house.
The meeting and change of shift went oddly enough anyway. It wasn't his business, and he knew the Weiss project had a lot of sway in the organization's inner workings, but the female brunette agent was talking up to the commanding officer with quite a lot of impunity. It wasn't comfortable.
He sighed. It was going to be a long shift. He leaned back under the eaves of the house and waited, recognizing one of those assigned to move about the perimeter, same department as he was in. He waved the other over when in visual distance, not particularly caring about the slight breach in orders. What could they expect of 'paperpushers' anyway?
The young woman checked her radio and weapon and then came over beside him, using the available cover adequately to keep her from being spotted. Reaching into a pocket, she offered a stick of gum.
He accepted with a nod and a smile, taking a quick second to unwrap it. Apparently just watching the grounds, he half smiled and shook his head. "I'm trying to remember who we pissed off this time," he commented lightly. "Recently, that is."
Ito Fukuno shrugged. "With the Cat Goddess running the show, no excuse needed, Biji-san. You know what they say, she's got scattergun PMS..."
Biji snorted, "It's in full swing today. I'm not sure what they expect, I'll be lucky if I don't shoot my own damned foot." He gave her a self depreciating smile and sighed, glancing back out towards his assigned area. "She's getting dirty with the tactics again."
Ito shrugged again. "With turncoat or renegade assassins, I figure dirty tactics are about right. The Weiss group always made me nervous anyway. I don't see why we needed them. Ought to be a better way of handling things."
"Looks like we'll be looking for one soon enough. You have to admit they /were/ efficient most of the time. Made a drop in these sort of activities, anyway. But I never dealt with them enough to know. I guess I just don't like using a civilian as bait, even if..." Biji let it trail off, not particularly eager to finish that thought.
"Oi, if that were so, she'd be here, not tucked away safe," Ito dismissed the scruple. "If that Abyssinian truly cared about her as something other than a liability, he'd leave her alone, ne?"
"Hai, hai," Biji's agreement was a little half hearted. He pushed his hands into his pants pockets, one a little awkwardly around the unfamiliar placement of the gun. "You'll be happy to know there's a quiet little rumor going around that the Weiss division might be cut off, whether we bring them back or not. No one new to get twitchy over."
"Bout time the top group decided to stop that kind of thing." The female agent leaned back against the wall. She ducked her head and her voice dropped from the low pitch it had been at already. "Heard another. Heard the 'cats' already hooked up with those outlaw freaks." She shivered slightly.
He glanced at her sharply, the curse just a step above inaudible. "No wonder you're so ready to get rid of 'em," he replied quietly. Nearly everyone had some loss at Esset's rout a year ago, some were more known than others. "You sure? I heard rivals was a serious understatement between the two groups."
"Agent Shirado was at the stake-out last night. The junior assassin used some kind of gas or something on his superior; came and left with one of the 'black' contingent. *Very* friendly too," she added and her expression was just this side of disgusted. "Another one showed up in the back and broke up the party there."
Biji responded with a breathy whistle. "Didn't hear that, just that agent Manx was under suspicion and had disappeared. Even a few about her taking a bullet for Weiss. Been working with them so long I imagine she developed some ties." He shook his head. He glanced back at Ito, an eyebrow raised, having trouble with something. "That... kind of friendly?"
"That's the way Shirado told it," she nodded, keeping her voice low. "Shame about Manx. If so, I imagine she was duped."
"Probably, kami-sama knows she was practically married to her job. I take it all with a grain of salt, though." He shrugged, chewing almost lazily on the gum for a little while before volunteering any more information to the conversation. "I've heard it was just Weiss on the other stake out, but only the Cat herself walked out of that one. So who knows what happened, really."
Ito kicked a small scuff in the dirt. "More dead agents. I hope... we get a chance to shut them down, I do."
"I just hope it ain't this shift. And don't look at me like that, you're used to this shit." He glanced away and mumbled, "Excuse my language."
She glanced at him and smiled slightly. "Gomen. And no one gets used to it. Except killers with cold blood."
"Aa, guess that's why I didn't mind 'em so much. Leave this work to the colder blood, ne?" He shrugged. "I'm looking forward to someone taking them down, anyway. I don't like the idea of empty desks any more than you do."
Ito patted Biji's shoulder and nodded. Noting the movement of another agent in their direction, she faded back towards her post.
The recorded audio finished its playback into the headset. Aya was met with a shrug from the telepath as the sound cut. "Like I said, not there, no one with specifics," he leaned back against the trunk of a tree, looking for all the world uninterested. He wasn't bothering to keep his voice down either. Down there were simply toys, not threats.
There was no change in the red-haired assassin's expression. He was weighing the slim to non-existent likelihood that there might be some clue left by Momoe. She'd made it clear that she wasn't in favor of his request to take Aya-chan.
"Then there's no point in staying."
"Mmm, probably not," Schuldig agreed with a distracted air, keeping himself entertained with a few of the younger, newer agents inside. It was amazing how much they got worked up over a few phantom movements and sounds. The smirk was a very self satisfied one. "Would be fun to take a few in charge and coax a few locations out of them, but you probably already know them." He gave the other redhead a look as if the lack of a good reason was his fault entirely.
He got an impassive look in return. "The only location of any use would be the location of my sister. According to you, that is not available."
The telepath didn't disagree, just pushed himself away from his perch and began to walk back to the others. "No threat, no problem." Even with his expression hidden, the smug look managed to wriggle into his tone. "But you aren't going to just leave it there."
"You have a practical suggestion?" Aya asked. Whatever they might think of them, he had no particular desire to kill lower level agents for no reason.
"Concentrate on something else." Schuldig paused, as if waiting for the other to follow. "Take it from me, they'll look for something else to poke at if you stop twitching over it. I doubt whatever they'll come up with as another ploy will be as effective."
The swordsman made no verbal or non-verbal reply, simply moved after the telepath. "Let the others know we're aborting."
The German regarded Aya out of the corner of his eyes before shrugging. "Withdrawal in progress," he offered. Then, with a touch of pride he added, "You'll be happy to know it seems that your Birman has now taken to surrounding herself with quite an honor guard lately."
Aya turned his head. "She's not here..."
"Missed by an hour or so. It's a shame, I'd love a taste of her side of your interrogation." Innocence wasn't an expression that went well on Schuldig's face. "Informational purposes, of course."
The darker redhead made a soft derisive sound, but it wasn't backed by anything on the surface of his mind. There was only an odd curiosity and the beginnings of an even odder affection. He barely recognized it himself.
One of the largest rooms on the floor was a conference room. A deep black marble table was supported by thick, wrought iron legs that sank deep into the plush carpeting. Youji had forgone the use of any of the leather chairs scattered along the considerable length of the table in favor of using the tabletop itself as convenient seating.
One leg dangling over the edge, and the other tucked beneath him, he was almost idly flipping through the channels that the flatscreen TV taking up a good deal of the far wall would offer. Gliding through daytime talkshows, game programs and the odd newscast and soap, his attention rarely stayed on anything for very long.
The door opened and a newly familiar figure sauntered in and took one of the neglected chairs, sprawling on it. The Irishman glanced at the talk show currently on the screen as if fascinated by it for all of five seconds.
The door did not close behind him. Another figure in a white suit entered before letting the door swing back.
The Weiss assassin had hardly given Farfarello a second glance, but Crawford got a bit of a longer look. It was much easier to put off the Irishman's presence as a whim than it was the American's. He turned back to the screen deliberately and changed the channel, watching without interest some contrived soap opera plotline. The exaggerated anger of a woman finding out a rival's plot against her.
"Planning on a quiet afternoon?" Crawford said, crossing his arms comfortably as he leaned against the table.
"Iie, no plans really," Youji replied, flicking the channel again. The woman's voice had been steadily riding in octaves, way too many above his tolerance. "Keeps my schedule flexible. Lemmie guess, not in yours right now."
"I thought you might want to take a drive," Crawford said, with a slight smile.
This drew Youji's attention for a moment. He didn't bother to hide any wariness. "Got a destination in mind?"
Crawford nodded. "Nice place. Quiet. Good place to recover from an unexpected illness."
The TV clicked off. Youji fished the keys out of his pocket as he slid off the table and tossed them in Crawford's direction. "Sounds good," he replied, his mind offering the obvious conclusion. "She got a hold of you pretty easily."
The American raised an eyebrow. "Schuldig is the telepath. She... who?"
There was a slight pause in Youji's movement, his own confusion coming and passing in a heartbeat. "Nothing, forget about it." He glanced back at the Irishman quickly then to Crawford. He'd gotten himself into this one. "Lead on."
"She... who?"
Youji shrugged, frowning slightly when it wasn't dropped as easily as he'd hoped. Even he had to admit it was a pretty futile hope from the beginning. "A doctor is supposed to get in touch with me about the location of our former contact."
Crawford nodded. "Right situation. Wrong person. I don't need her to call. I know where your friend is. If she's recovering, I want to bring her back here."
The assassin didn't offer any argument to that, keeping his reservations to himself. "Do you mind a detour first? I want to pick up something for her."
"Take your second choice for the vendor," Crawford said, turning to the door. "This is going to be tricky enough."
"Northside first then," Youji said, heeding the warning almost instinctively. The second statement had him reaching for the overcoat, and the watch he'd slipped into one pocket. Just in case tricky turned into difficult.
"The keys," Crawford said over his shoulder. "You're driving. It's amusing to avoid crashes by precognition but I'll need my focus for something else."
Youji gave the American's back a rather bemused look, but took them when they were returned without any comment.
Farfarello simply followed, a pleasant grin on his face. Taking advantage of being the last one through the door to give Youji's rear a pat, he also took the shotgun seat while Crawford occupied the back seat like an executive.
Youji himself spent most of the first leg of the drive convincing himself that he did *not* 'meep.'
His 'second choice' was just that for a few reasons, being a little harder on out of season stock was one of the main ones, but he wasn't going to test fate, or more particularly any foreseen disasters. With the simple assurance that he'd be right back, he ducked into the shop of a one time competitor, having to suggest more than one type of arrangement before finding something suitable in what was available and convincing the old man there that yes, he was familiar with what the meanings were.
Wrapping it up carefully to protect the blooms, he gave both of the passengers a look as if daring them to make anything of the purchase. Keying the ignition, he looked across to Farfarello. "How do I get there from here?"
Sniffing the air, now scented with the flowers, the white-haired young man gave a set of directions that seemed vague at first, but which actually got them to the small retirement facility on the northern outskirts of the city.
No inquiries were made at the front desk, in case of questions, in particular surrounding a Jane Doe. They found her room through simple knowledge of which area was under the doctor's care and a search done by a glance at name plates. The only occupied one with no name plate wasn't exactly easy to find immediately, but was located in a relatively short time.
The soft knock on the door didn't get any response, but Youji wasn't particularly expecting any either. He pushed it open and slid inside the room with only a glance back at his companions, not sure how much good a 'stay here please' would do.
Turning his focus forwards instead, he glanced around the small, well furnished room. The room had obviously been used for higher care tenants before, since the monitors that were in the room had a rather fixed look to them. The woman they surrounded was still asleep, but to Youji's relief had quite a bit more color to her fair skin. Moving with an everyday silence, he walked over to the bedside, looking down for a moment before replacing the small daisy assortment that had been left there with the Carolina roses and coltsfoot he'd bought on the way.
He turned, with every intention of telling Crawford it was no good moving her if she was still out, and finding some relief in that prospect.
The American had not followed him into the room, nor had Farfarello.
A movement from the bed drew his attention back before he reached the door. Manx had turned a little and her eyes were open, looking at the flowers, and then to him.
"Hi," she managed softly, her voice a bit hoarse. There was a pitcher of water on the table next to the bed, along with a cup and straw.
"Hey," he replied, turning. The move to refill the cup and offer it was almost automatic. He gave her a slight smile. "I was hoping to keep you out of this for a while longer," he admitted quietly.
Accepting the water gratefully, she drank and then leaned back. Watching him, she said, "What if I don't want to be kept out? I've been in it for too long, I don't want to stay out now, when I might be able to do some... some good."
"Then I don't think I could stop you, I'm probably terrible enough for not wishing for an instant recovery, ne?" Youji said, a slight smile fading. "You scared me to death last night."
She laughed a little shakily at that. "Not just you," she said. Then, "You're okay? Omi? And what about Ken and Aya?"
"Omi's fine.. er very fine," Youji said, the memory of this morning causing a smirk at the addenda. "Ken and Aya are out following a lead on his sister... they're both doing a lot better than I'd have guessed, coping, that is."
"Aya-chan... yes," Manx murmured. She smiled, a little wanly. "It feels good.... to be able to talk without worrying about what I'm saying. So they all know... all blocks down?"
Youji nodded, both in answer and in a very keen understanding of the sentiment. "Yeah, Omi's been down for probably a year now. Little sneak's been hiding it from everyone." Youji's smile was fond at the nickname. "Ken's... reset, but both of them are down permanently now. And yeah, I didn't try to keep anything from them, I didn't see the point anymore."
Manx sighed. "I'm glad... your ties to each other were stronger. Yours was the worst position, Youji-san."
"It's a world of difference to have that over with," Youji said, sliding into the chair beside the bed, almost reflexively refilling the cup. "I almost don't mind all the difficulties. My regrets about leaving are very small ones, or were." He glanced up at the medical machinery involuntarily.
Taking another drink, she watched him. "You should have none," she said quietly. "While Persia was alive, I believed in what we were trying to do. But since then..." she shook her head. "He took something questionable and found a way to use it nobly. I wanted to believe there were other such leaders who could take over, but that was wishful thinking."
Youji grinned a common subject of teasing finding a chance. "Hey, I'd have voted you queen of all Kritiker, but you had to object."
Her smile was half familiar dismissal, half fondness. "Still, not a bad compliment from the Jack of Hearts."
Youji quirked a grin and picked up her chart, looking it over with an exaggerated meticulousness. He feigned a frown. "I think we may need to reevaluate this... there's no sign of a concussion or fever, but I couldn't have sworn you were just flirting..."
"Probably the pain medication," she offered gently.
"Aa, must be," he said, after a pause setting the clipboard down, giving a more serious look towards Manx. "As you saw, we've picked up some... extremely... unexpected allies... They want to move you back with both of our groups..."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Schwartz...." Then she looked down and back up. "Do you... trust them?"
"I..." He gave her a reluctant look and a shrug. "Some of them, some of the time. There's some unusual circumstances that forced things rather quickly. Prodigy and Omi are one of them... It's going to take a while to explain it all."
Her expression sharpened. "I saw them... what... *was* that? Omi seemed... so different..."
The assassin sighed and sunk into the seat, offering her a shrug. "I can't say I understand it fully. An accident happened and they got connected somehow... since then, both of them have been different... Nagi was obvious first, but..."
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. "Connected..." She shook her head and her concern was obvious. "The boy... Prodigy... it's not.. coercion?"
Youji looked at Manx again, disbelief visible. "If it was, I'd have figured he'd have found a way to kill Prodigy by now. No, he's... they're both extremely protective of each other."
She compared his words to what she had seen in those few moments. Then she shook her head. After a moment she said, "It's not... a bad idea... if... if they aren't just..."
After another pause, she said, "There's something I need to tell you. I was put into Kritiker as an inside operative for another group. This group... even I don't know much about them, they were very careful about that, but they are a group that.... recruits.... people with a variety of talents. Trains them. And places them. In some instances, in places where they can strengthen the projects they are placed into. In others, probably primarily for gathering information..."
It was Youji's turn to watch quietly. A little while after she trailed off, he found his voice again. "We met them... They're reason number two that we're kinda working together..." He looked at her, there were some suspicions that had been coming together that were allayed slightly. "You are... resigning from both jobs, right?"
She met his look. "Perhaps. Although it's not just a rumor that one can *not* retire... from one of those jobs. I had something different in mind for retirement. I wanted to give you what information I could. After that..." she shrugged. "Is not important."
"Not important," Youji's tone was absolutely flat, and the look he gave her was hard and controlled. "How so?"
Taking in his expression, she sighed, looking away. "I thought perhaps you would understand. In spite of myself, I found a purpose for my life, once. I was willing to do anything for it, a decision I... I don't regret. Only that I could have, perhaps done it differently. Better. Kept him from..." She shook her head. "I've done my best to continue but I'm tired... tired of the... the emptiness in my life. Because of that I made another decision. If I'd wanted to go on... I wouldn't have made that decision, because I knew that would be the end."
"Meeting with us was it, wasn't it?" Youji asked, shaking his head before she could answer. The rest, he didn't know how to respond to, not with any elegance. "It's possible to live past your purpose you know. Just out of spite is the best reason I've come up with. Tomorrow's a good one, too."
Turning her head against the pillow, she reached up and wiped impatiently at her eyes. "Well... I suppose I'll find out," she said, not sounding very convinced. "That's really not important. Weiss... Weiss is. It's important that... you find a way to beat the odds against you. If anyone can do it, you can."
A brush across her shoulder drew Manx's attention back to Youji. His expression was typical Youji - cocky, a bit of a smirk, a bit of a flirt, and all confidence. His eyes were the only hints of how far it was from a joke. He raised his hand, offering it to her. "A deal. If you want to be in this, then we're in it together. All the way."
Manx's eyes widened. Studying him, she lifted her hand hesitantly, finally placing it in his.
He smiled. When he withdrew his hand, it was a lingering slide of fingertips. He reached down to brush her hair back a little. "I'll see about getting you out of here," he said quietly.
She watched him, a slight nod at his words.
The door opened quietly and two figures entered. Manx's eyes widened at the sight of Farfarello and Crawford. The Irishman smirked in return, moving around to the other side of the bed, as Crawford stepped forward.
A more typical expression had fixed back into place by the time Youji turned to look at Crawford. "I'd imagine a comment about timing would be silly right now," he commented dryly.
The American smiled slightly, inclining his head. The look he turned on Manx was cooler. "Ready to come slumming, Miss Manx?"
She met his look, her face taking on the reserved, more professional expression Youji was familiar with. "I understand I have your group to thank for this," she gestured vaguely to the room.
"You have Balinese to thank. We were simply living up to our end of a bargain," the precog answered.
Youji shook his head, standing up. "Let's forget the thanks," he said, a half smile pulling up one corner of his lips. "I figure we have making it home to worry about."
Crawford slid a look towards Youji. "Indeed. Shall we get on with it?" The look he turned to Manx was specific. "I want you for two reasons. One, to give Balinese the assurance of your well being. Two, you don't need to be fully recovered to be useful, especially in covering our whereabouts. With twice as many talents to cover, some of them... unpredictable at best, your presence will be an asset. If you agree to the terms...?"
"I understand you, Oracle," she said evenly. "I agree to your terms."
"See that wasn't so bad," he answered, though it wasn't clear who the words were directed to. He tapped Youji's shoulder. "There should be a robe in the closet." As the blond went to look for it, Farfarello began unhooking the monitors and IV with surprising deftness. His grin at Manx was unnerving but she managed to keep her cool.
When free of wires and tubes, she was coaxed carefully up enough to get the robe over the hospital gown. "I didn't think you'd want the old clothes back, so I'll find something easy later," Youji promised absently. He glanced at her doubtfully, not wanting to jar any of the stitches any more than he had to. "I'll get a chair."
Crawford shook his head. "No time for that."
Manx lifted her arms. "It's not that bad," she said, looking at Youji.
"All right, but you've forfeited any right to hit me with anything," he said lightly. He lifted her as delicately as he could manage, one arm under her knees and the other below her shoulder blades.
She settled into his hold, lips pressing together a bit but not showing anything else as an outward sign.
They made a quicker and more direct trip back, since they knew the destination - where the car had been left. Crawford laid a hand lightly on Youji's shoulder twice, stopping him, then let him go, and they managed to avoid encountering anyone who might have paid attention. When the car was in sight, Crawford stopped him again, this time for a longer period. The American took off his glasses for a moment, concentrating. His displeasure became evident.
"Problem?" Youji asked, the caution in his tone had no sign of being from any distrust, but a simple battle readiness.
Crawford put his glasses back on and looked Youji up and down. "You'll have to get back on your own. Avoid a traffic snarl at Akabori and Uchida. Past that should be clear, but don't slow down." With barely a moment's flicker in attention, he looked at Farfarello and pointed east, around the side of the building. The Irishman grinned widely and all but disappeared in that direction. Slipping a hand inside his coat, Crawford focused on the other direction, west. "Go - now."
Youji only spared a bit of concentration on releasing the lock on his wire, drawing it instinctively a few inches just in case. It curled around his wrist and further out of sight almost immediately, old reflexes blending with new. Moving as quickly as he dared, he found the car where they'd left it with no problem. It was a bit an unusually hard strain in opening the door handles, and made sure Manx was arranged inside with as much attention as he could spare, before closing the back door and going for the front himself.
TBC