FIC: Hierarchy of Desires (PG-17) for adevyish
Author: golden_bastet
Recipient: adevyish
Title: Hierarchy of Desires
Rating: PG-17
Characters/Pairing(s): Schuldig / Yohji, Asuka
Summary: There's vengeance, and then there's Schuldig...
Warnings: a little language, a little noncon
Word Count: 2251
Author's Notes: Merry Christmas! Hope this fits the bill. :^D And I'd like to thank genuinelie and swirly_ayuri for their gracious help with betaing.
“Asuka!” Frantic.
“Yohji - stay here. I'll be right back with some help. Don't move now, hear?”
“Asuka! Don't go, we're out of our league with this...”
“Like you're going anywhere right now. I'm not afraid of the big bad wolf. You stay, and I'll be right back.”
“But, Asuka!”
“Right back.” That precious smile.
And she stood up and ran - down the alley, right out of his life.
Within about ten seconds, three men strode by Yohji's hideout behind the trash cans. “There’s one of them!” Two continued on; but the third, just opposite Yohji, yelled, “Stand aside.” He stopped and took a shooter's crouch, aimed and fired. There was a gasp, and then a muffled thud down the alley.
And in that moment, as his heart turned black, Yohji looked up at the shooter, memorizing the features of the man he would pursue for his vengeance.
Said man looked straight at him, startlingly blue eyes laughing at Yohji under a mop of orange hair. He stared at the wounded man, grinning; then lifted a finger to his lips as if to say, “Shhh, we don't want the others to see you,” and saluted him. Yohji thought he heard the words, Auf weiderzehn, liebschen. You and I will meet again, although the laughing lips hadn't spoken them.
And then the orange-haired man was gone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“You must've seen him. Tall, orange hair. Speaks Japanese with a German accent.”
“No, never saw anyone like that around here. I'm a regular, in here every night, but that's not ringing any bells.”
Yohji turned away, discouraged. He'd been to every bar in Roppongi; his pencil sketch had been passed around so much that the image had started to smudge. But no one could tell him anything, and no one recognized the figure.
He ordered another scotch and soda - his third in the past half hour - and retreated to a corner table to lick his wounds. He was at his wit's end. It was as if all the skills he'd developed as a PI had gone that day, the day that Asuka went away, and he couldn't call them up to help her now.
“You know, you're going about it all wrong.”
He turned to the voice, although he knew it could be the liquor talking. He'd always had a decent capacity, but lately he'd really been pushing the limits.
“Yes, you. I'm talking to you. You're really screwing up your search.”
He focused on the figure before him. A tall redheaded woman stared intently back. The outfit she was wearing - a miniskirt and high heels, with anklet socks that would have been ridiculous elsewhere - might have marked her as a trendy pop girl; but the commanding stare of the blue eyes, and the more than assured way she carried herself, labeled her as someone not to be fooled with.
“And who would you be?”
“Someone. Someone who's been watching you. And I have to say, you come highly recommended, but I'm not seeing much beyond an annoying boozer falling off the cliff into alcoholism.”
“And who recommended me?” It'd been months since the fuckup, months since he'd gone on any assignments.
“A little birdie, Mr. Detective. Now, to get to the point, you want to find Schuldig -”
“Find who?” he interrupted. German-sounding name. She definitely had his attention.
“The man you're looking for. Tall, orange-haired German - Christ, didn't you even get his name yet? You have a topic you'd like to raise with him. I want you to find him as well.”
“Okay.” Progress. Play it easy, Yohji, play it easy.
“No one here will admit to knowing him. Just too dangerous; they're not looking for trouble. Now, if you gave them incentive... Say, that blonde over there. Buy her a drink, get to know her, maybe take her back to your place. Although god knows, you need a good hosing down before anyone would leave with you.”
Okay, that was crossing a line. “Who the hell are you? What do you want with Schuldig?”
“Just call me a friend. Someone who wants what you want, although you don’t know that yet. But if you want your vengeance, you need to straighten yourself out and get your technique back.”
She stood up, impossibly sturdy on impossibly high heels, with those ridiculous socks. “Well, I have to get going, but like I said - get a hold of yourself, Yohji. Once you do that, you're capable of more. A lot more.”
She touched his back. “Bye for now. But you and I will meet again.”
It wasn't until she'd been gone for several minutes that Yohji realized that that was the same thing the German had said.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next time Yohji met the woman, he had a ready answer to her “be my dog or die” command. Although she didn’t seem to have as much presence that time around; even her eyes seemed less intensely blue.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The operation was straight out of the textbook: go into the warehouse, eliminate the owner, release the hostages in the basement. Nothing unusual about it, and for once they'd even been given fairly complete intelligence beforehand. Aya was now stationed outside the suite of management offices, standing guard against any nasty surprises, while Yohji crept into the reception area, moved to the inner office, and slid around the massive desk... only to come face-to-face with Schuldig lounging in the leather chair.
Anger and confusion hit him at once. What the fuck. Schwarz had nothing to do with this mission. His fingers itched for his wire, but Kritiker would want information first.
Au contraire, liebschen. The voice he couldn't forget flowed through his mind. We had our dealings with the owner as well. Unfortunately, he was a little less than reliable. Fortunately, we took care of the dirty work for you. He gestured to the body sprawled at his feet. But that gives us some time alone, ja? Would the kitty like to play?
Yohji moved to release his wire, but the German was gone; in the blink of an eye, he'd moved across the room. Now, now, not too rough with the claws. We don't have much time, so let's skip the formalities.
“Get over here, Schuldig, so I can kill you.” Yohji felt anger boiling up his spine.
Suddenly, Yohji's wrists were wrapped in Schuldig's hand, the taller man leaning into him and restraining him. He struggled against the grip, but it was like moving a brick wall. No, liebschen. You're not going anywhere, or saying anything, until I want you to.
Now, I can't spoil the surprise, but rest assured everything has its place in the grand scheme of things. You can't see that, though; you're too busy fighting for right and good and the honor of the ladies. Especially the one you couldn't save.
Yohji paused in his struggling, a look of utter hatred across his face.
But I like you. Schuldig leaned forward, until his face was inches from Yohji's, the blue eyes twinkling merrily. You amuse me. You make me think of what life might've been like if it had been a little more, shall we say, boring. Looking at you, boredom might have been worth it. Might still be.
A look of frustration crossed the face. Ah, damn, Brad is calling, just when it was getting good. Well, I've enjoyed our brief chat, one-sided or not. But I do want a souvenir to remember you by. He leaned in, closing the gap, and ran his tongue lightly over Yohji's lips, then savagely covered his mouth. The sensation, like suns bursting inside his head, made Yohji feel like he would simultaneously vomit and come.
Ah, was it good for you, too? I can make it feel very good, liebschen. And not solely by suggestion.
...Ach - Brad grows more and more insistent, so I must leave you. See you around, kitty; we'll meet again.
Yohji found himself suddenly crumpled on his hands and knees, no sign of the other man beyond the moisture across his lips. Straining to catch his breath, he felt dirty and inadequate - and even more determined to destroy Schuldig.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He'd hated Europe. As assignments went, this one was about 1,000 on a 1-to-10 difficulty scale. Maybe he was getting old, but being separated from the others, plus having to romance that woman, had been nothing but a slog. Consistently self-centered and shallow, she wasn’t his type - he grew to hate the slight German inflection in her voice - and yet he’d had to spend months acting as though he cared. And after a while, it just became almost impossible.
If he could forget... but it’d been two long years, and he was no closer to his goal. He’d sold his soul to Kritiker; murdered countless people - but it was okay, because they were the “good” guys, right? - been tipping over into some dark hell of insanity; and through it all they’d never really been able to get close to Schwarz. He'd never been able to touch Schuldig; even when Weiss met Schwarz face-to-face he could never truly lay a hand on him, despite Omi's explorations in Kritiker's files indicating that he was at his best matched against the German. And then, Schwarz had helped them fight the Elders at the ceremony, and promptly disappeared afterwards.
After all this time, he just felt like the pressure had built up, like he was going to explode. Maybe it was because he’d never been able to wrap his wires around that neck, and pull until the head snapped off...
“Yohji?”
He looked up, to see a hint of concern in Ken’s eyes. “Uh, yeah?”
“C’mon, time to pack up and get to the airport. We’re going home.”
Yeah, home. Where I can resume the never-ending chase after that demon. “Okay, just thinking. You know me.” Weak laugh. “I’ll be right there.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back in Japan, there was no break. They were sent straight to Koua; he’d had to teach art with a calmness he no longer felt inside. There was no chance to stop, to listen to the voices inside his head and sort through things. He appreciated the comfort that the blue-eyed Tsuji woman had offered, through both her body and the drug she had given him; they let him pause life for a bit, and push the madness back before it took over. But they never put the specter of Schuldig to rest.
And then they were in the tunnels under Koua, fighting Tsuji and her creation, and Asuka had found him and told him it was alright. Somehow, being able to talk to and touch her settled him inside and made him want to believe that everything could be alright and that he could be a full partner with Weiss for once...
And then the ceiling fell, and it all ended.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Everyone at the hospital had been quite nice. Some considered it pity - he knew that the guy across the hall did, throwing his dishes at the nurses every mealtime - but Ryo appreciated how helpful and patient the staff had been. They were patient as he healed and his memories came back, and then they were patient in a different way when the memories stopped coming back. Then that really nice pretty nurse, Asuka, had offered him a couch to crash on when he had nowhere to go.
Asuka. Something about that name got to him. He’d taken to watching her as she’d bustled around his room, taking his temperature, adjusting the curtains, telling him a few jokes, and filling him in on TV gossip. It was kind of fun being around her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Hon! I’m home!”
“Aw, Ryo! You’re early.” Asuka came out of the kitchen, a frown on her face.
“What? Hey - I can leave, you know.”
“No, no, hon.” Smiling, she came over and lightly kissed his lips. “I was going to surprise you. It’s been, you know… a year since you came out of the hospital. It’s your turn to cook, but I wanted to make something special.”
“And that's why I married you.” He grinned back as he crossed the room. “Okay, don’t worry; I’ll go in back and give you some room, and you can keep doing what you were doing.” He gave her a big hug and a kiss, enveloping her as best as her could given his lanky build. The kiss began to deepen, then she laughed and pushed him away. “If you don’t stop, nothing will get done and dinner will burn. And that’s not the surprise I was planning.”
“Okay, okay,” Ryo reluctantly let go and backed off, picking up his briefcase. “I’ll go take a shower and change, but,” he added, waggling his eyebrows, ”I’m expecting big things in the ‘special’ department.”
“Yes, Itoh-sama, we live to please,” Asuka bowed to the retreating figure, who laughed and moved further into the apartment.
Straightening up, she walked to the dining area and opened one of the drawers in the credenza. Stopping to look at herself in the hanging mirror, she pushed her glasses up onto her forehead. In the strong winter sunlight streaming into the room, there was just a shimmer of orange around her hair; and one couldn’t be faulted for seeing the faintest bluish cast to her eyes. Yes, Yohji, we have met again, and this time we won’t part, she thought, and then went back to setting the table.
Recipient: adevyish
Title: Hierarchy of Desires
Rating: PG-17
Characters/Pairing(s): Schuldig / Yohji, Asuka
Summary: There's vengeance, and then there's Schuldig...
Warnings: a little language, a little noncon
Word Count: 2251
Author's Notes: Merry Christmas! Hope this fits the bill. :^D And I'd like to thank genuinelie and swirly_ayuri for their gracious help with betaing.
“Asuka!” Frantic.
“Yohji - stay here. I'll be right back with some help. Don't move now, hear?”
“Asuka! Don't go, we're out of our league with this...”
“Like you're going anywhere right now. I'm not afraid of the big bad wolf. You stay, and I'll be right back.”
“But, Asuka!”
“Right back.” That precious smile.
And she stood up and ran - down the alley, right out of his life.
Within about ten seconds, three men strode by Yohji's hideout behind the trash cans. “There’s one of them!” Two continued on; but the third, just opposite Yohji, yelled, “Stand aside.” He stopped and took a shooter's crouch, aimed and fired. There was a gasp, and then a muffled thud down the alley.
And in that moment, as his heart turned black, Yohji looked up at the shooter, memorizing the features of the man he would pursue for his vengeance.
Said man looked straight at him, startlingly blue eyes laughing at Yohji under a mop of orange hair. He stared at the wounded man, grinning; then lifted a finger to his lips as if to say, “Shhh, we don't want the others to see you,” and saluted him. Yohji thought he heard the words, Auf weiderzehn, liebschen. You and I will meet again, although the laughing lips hadn't spoken them.
And then the orange-haired man was gone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“You must've seen him. Tall, orange hair. Speaks Japanese with a German accent.”
“No, never saw anyone like that around here. I'm a regular, in here every night, but that's not ringing any bells.”
Yohji turned away, discouraged. He'd been to every bar in Roppongi; his pencil sketch had been passed around so much that the image had started to smudge. But no one could tell him anything, and no one recognized the figure.
He ordered another scotch and soda - his third in the past half hour - and retreated to a corner table to lick his wounds. He was at his wit's end. It was as if all the skills he'd developed as a PI had gone that day, the day that Asuka went away, and he couldn't call them up to help her now.
“You know, you're going about it all wrong.”
He turned to the voice, although he knew it could be the liquor talking. He'd always had a decent capacity, but lately he'd really been pushing the limits.
“Yes, you. I'm talking to you. You're really screwing up your search.”
He focused on the figure before him. A tall redheaded woman stared intently back. The outfit she was wearing - a miniskirt and high heels, with anklet socks that would have been ridiculous elsewhere - might have marked her as a trendy pop girl; but the commanding stare of the blue eyes, and the more than assured way she carried herself, labeled her as someone not to be fooled with.
“And who would you be?”
“Someone. Someone who's been watching you. And I have to say, you come highly recommended, but I'm not seeing much beyond an annoying boozer falling off the cliff into alcoholism.”
“And who recommended me?” It'd been months since the fuckup, months since he'd gone on any assignments.
“A little birdie, Mr. Detective. Now, to get to the point, you want to find Schuldig -”
“Find who?” he interrupted. German-sounding name. She definitely had his attention.
“The man you're looking for. Tall, orange-haired German - Christ, didn't you even get his name yet? You have a topic you'd like to raise with him. I want you to find him as well.”
“Okay.” Progress. Play it easy, Yohji, play it easy.
“No one here will admit to knowing him. Just too dangerous; they're not looking for trouble. Now, if you gave them incentive... Say, that blonde over there. Buy her a drink, get to know her, maybe take her back to your place. Although god knows, you need a good hosing down before anyone would leave with you.”
Okay, that was crossing a line. “Who the hell are you? What do you want with Schuldig?”
“Just call me a friend. Someone who wants what you want, although you don’t know that yet. But if you want your vengeance, you need to straighten yourself out and get your technique back.”
She stood up, impossibly sturdy on impossibly high heels, with those ridiculous socks. “Well, I have to get going, but like I said - get a hold of yourself, Yohji. Once you do that, you're capable of more. A lot more.”
She touched his back. “Bye for now. But you and I will meet again.”
It wasn't until she'd been gone for several minutes that Yohji realized that that was the same thing the German had said.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The next time Yohji met the woman, he had a ready answer to her “be my dog or die” command. Although she didn’t seem to have as much presence that time around; even her eyes seemed less intensely blue.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The operation was straight out of the textbook: go into the warehouse, eliminate the owner, release the hostages in the basement. Nothing unusual about it, and for once they'd even been given fairly complete intelligence beforehand. Aya was now stationed outside the suite of management offices, standing guard against any nasty surprises, while Yohji crept into the reception area, moved to the inner office, and slid around the massive desk... only to come face-to-face with Schuldig lounging in the leather chair.
Anger and confusion hit him at once. What the fuck. Schwarz had nothing to do with this mission. His fingers itched for his wire, but Kritiker would want information first.
Au contraire, liebschen. The voice he couldn't forget flowed through his mind. We had our dealings with the owner as well. Unfortunately, he was a little less than reliable. Fortunately, we took care of the dirty work for you. He gestured to the body sprawled at his feet. But that gives us some time alone, ja? Would the kitty like to play?
Yohji moved to release his wire, but the German was gone; in the blink of an eye, he'd moved across the room. Now, now, not too rough with the claws. We don't have much time, so let's skip the formalities.
“Get over here, Schuldig, so I can kill you.” Yohji felt anger boiling up his spine.
Suddenly, Yohji's wrists were wrapped in Schuldig's hand, the taller man leaning into him and restraining him. He struggled against the grip, but it was like moving a brick wall. No, liebschen. You're not going anywhere, or saying anything, until I want you to.
Now, I can't spoil the surprise, but rest assured everything has its place in the grand scheme of things. You can't see that, though; you're too busy fighting for right and good and the honor of the ladies. Especially the one you couldn't save.
Yohji paused in his struggling, a look of utter hatred across his face.
But I like you. Schuldig leaned forward, until his face was inches from Yohji's, the blue eyes twinkling merrily. You amuse me. You make me think of what life might've been like if it had been a little more, shall we say, boring. Looking at you, boredom might have been worth it. Might still be.
A look of frustration crossed the face. Ah, damn, Brad is calling, just when it was getting good. Well, I've enjoyed our brief chat, one-sided or not. But I do want a souvenir to remember you by. He leaned in, closing the gap, and ran his tongue lightly over Yohji's lips, then savagely covered his mouth. The sensation, like suns bursting inside his head, made Yohji feel like he would simultaneously vomit and come.
Ah, was it good for you, too? I can make it feel very good, liebschen. And not solely by suggestion.
...Ach - Brad grows more and more insistent, so I must leave you. See you around, kitty; we'll meet again.
Yohji found himself suddenly crumpled on his hands and knees, no sign of the other man beyond the moisture across his lips. Straining to catch his breath, he felt dirty and inadequate - and even more determined to destroy Schuldig.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He'd hated Europe. As assignments went, this one was about 1,000 on a 1-to-10 difficulty scale. Maybe he was getting old, but being separated from the others, plus having to romance that woman, had been nothing but a slog. Consistently self-centered and shallow, she wasn’t his type - he grew to hate the slight German inflection in her voice - and yet he’d had to spend months acting as though he cared. And after a while, it just became almost impossible.
If he could forget... but it’d been two long years, and he was no closer to his goal. He’d sold his soul to Kritiker; murdered countless people - but it was okay, because they were the “good” guys, right? - been tipping over into some dark hell of insanity; and through it all they’d never really been able to get close to Schwarz. He'd never been able to touch Schuldig; even when Weiss met Schwarz face-to-face he could never truly lay a hand on him, despite Omi's explorations in Kritiker's files indicating that he was at his best matched against the German. And then, Schwarz had helped them fight the Elders at the ceremony, and promptly disappeared afterwards.
After all this time, he just felt like the pressure had built up, like he was going to explode. Maybe it was because he’d never been able to wrap his wires around that neck, and pull until the head snapped off...
“Yohji?”
He looked up, to see a hint of concern in Ken’s eyes. “Uh, yeah?”
“C’mon, time to pack up and get to the airport. We’re going home.”
Yeah, home. Where I can resume the never-ending chase after that demon. “Okay, just thinking. You know me.” Weak laugh. “I’ll be right there.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back in Japan, there was no break. They were sent straight to Koua; he’d had to teach art with a calmness he no longer felt inside. There was no chance to stop, to listen to the voices inside his head and sort through things. He appreciated the comfort that the blue-eyed Tsuji woman had offered, through both her body and the drug she had given him; they let him pause life for a bit, and push the madness back before it took over. But they never put the specter of Schuldig to rest.
And then they were in the tunnels under Koua, fighting Tsuji and her creation, and Asuka had found him and told him it was alright. Somehow, being able to talk to and touch her settled him inside and made him want to believe that everything could be alright and that he could be a full partner with Weiss for once...
And then the ceiling fell, and it all ended.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Everyone at the hospital had been quite nice. Some considered it pity - he knew that the guy across the hall did, throwing his dishes at the nurses every mealtime - but Ryo appreciated how helpful and patient the staff had been. They were patient as he healed and his memories came back, and then they were patient in a different way when the memories stopped coming back. Then that really nice pretty nurse, Asuka, had offered him a couch to crash on when he had nowhere to go.
Asuka. Something about that name got to him. He’d taken to watching her as she’d bustled around his room, taking his temperature, adjusting the curtains, telling him a few jokes, and filling him in on TV gossip. It was kind of fun being around her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Hon! I’m home!”
“Aw, Ryo! You’re early.” Asuka came out of the kitchen, a frown on her face.
“What? Hey - I can leave, you know.”
“No, no, hon.” Smiling, she came over and lightly kissed his lips. “I was going to surprise you. It’s been, you know… a year since you came out of the hospital. It’s your turn to cook, but I wanted to make something special.”
“And that's why I married you.” He grinned back as he crossed the room. “Okay, don’t worry; I’ll go in back and give you some room, and you can keep doing what you were doing.” He gave her a big hug and a kiss, enveloping her as best as her could given his lanky build. The kiss began to deepen, then she laughed and pushed him away. “If you don’t stop, nothing will get done and dinner will burn. And that’s not the surprise I was planning.”
“Okay, okay,” Ryo reluctantly let go and backed off, picking up his briefcase. “I’ll go take a shower and change, but,” he added, waggling his eyebrows, ”I’m expecting big things in the ‘special’ department.”
“Yes, Itoh-sama, we live to please,” Asuka bowed to the retreating figure, who laughed and moved further into the apartment.
Straightening up, she walked to the dining area and opened one of the drawers in the credenza. Stopping to look at herself in the hanging mirror, she pushed her glasses up onto her forehead. In the strong winter sunlight streaming into the room, there was just a shimmer of orange around her hair; and one couldn’t be faulted for seeing the faintest bluish cast to her eyes. Yes, Yohji, we have met again, and this time we won’t part, she thought, and then went back to setting the table.