Cold by Kittyling "The greatest pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do." --Walter Bagehot *** The shop was quiet. At this time of night, though, that was to be expected. The numbers on the small digital clock beside the computer were a bright, glaring shade of red, and Omi blinked at it wearily before resuming typing. 2:39 AM. The monotonous "clackity-clack" of the computer keys was nearly putting him to sleep, and had the youngest member of Weiss not had a case report to complete, he would have been in bed hours ago. He was just relieved they didn't have a new case to work on; as it was, they'd been running through cases like Youji ran through girlfriends, and that was saying something. Although he didn't like it to show, Omi was exhausted, and lately he'd learned not to take his precious hours of sleep for granted. His older colleagues didn't seem to be complaining, though. Youji and Ken had gone to bed hours ago, giving Omi a sympathetic and appreciative pat on the back for working so hard with the case reports on their way up to their rooms above the flower shop. Omi had been half-tempted to ask them why they didn't help out if they were feeling so sorry, but he didn't like to pick fights, so the blonde simply swallowed his pride and kept on working. As for Aya...well, Omi didn't really want to think about where Aya was. The stoic redhead always kept to himself, and receiving sympathy or help from him was about as likely as Youji declaring himself gay. To put it simply, Omi wasn't expecting that any time soon. It wasn't that Omi didn't like Aya. In fact, it was rather the contrary; he looked up to the older member of Weiss, and although there was something about him that pushed people away, a different force was there that drew Omi to him. He had an honest desire to learn more about the violet-eyed man--maybe even befriend him, if that was possible. The probability of that ever happening was what made Omi shy away from trying, and Youji and Ken's constant joking that Aya was about as friendly as a stone wall did nothing to bring a more positive or optimistic outlook on the situation. The computer screen grew blurry, and Omi took a deep, steadying breath, shaking his head to try to get his eyes to refocus. Almost done...just a little more typing, and he'd be there. The couch in the far corner of the room looked far more inviting than the uncomfortable computer chair, though. He could get himself a cup of coffee from the kitchen, maybe, and rest for a little while before continuing. The coffee would keep him awake. He wouldn't go to sleep. He would not go to sleep. That thought was banished from his mind as he found himself pushing the keyboard to one side, his arms folding on the computer desk and his head resting on them. Just resting... Moments later, the youngest member of Weiss was asleep. * * * The door to the basement opened with a soft creak, leather boots making hardly any sound on the stairs as a tall figure made its way down them. ...And stopped in surprise on the last step at the sight of a boy--sleeping, by the looks of it--at the computer desk, the swirling colors of a screensaver and the small, flickering desk lamp the only light in the room. The clock on the desk now read 3:09. Aya's eyes narrowed. Making his movements as quiet as possible--which, for an assassin, came as second nature--the red-haired man walked across the room to where Omi had fallen asleep. He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms over his chest as he studied the boy. Sandy blonde hair was tinted an odd shade of blue from the current color of the screensaver, and strands of it had fallen into his face, giving the boy a slightly rumpled look. His chest was rising and falling slowly, rhythmically, and Aya had to stop his own breathing from falling into that rhythm. Perhaps the most disconcerting part was that Omi looked completely peaceful as he slept, childlike innocence visible in his features. Not the face of an assassin. Aya's frown deepened, and he stood up straight again, taking a couple of steps forward until he was beside Omi. Bending down slightly, he hooked an arm beneath the blonde's knees and lifted, quickly placing the other arm around his shoulders for support as he picked the smaller boy up. He was surprisingly light, and Aya found himself treading carefully over to the couch, as though the load in his arms was fragile. And as that thought flitted across his mind, he stopped it and examined it again. Yes, Omi was fragile. Delicate. Overly so. Lowering the boy onto the couch as gently as he could, Aya stood back and examined him again. Omi stirred only slightly, curling up onto his side, facing into the couch and away from Aya. The redhead's eyebrows furrowed, and he took the wool blanket from the back of the couch and draped it somewhat hesitantly over Omi's sleeping figure. He lingered only a moment longer before heading back over to the computer and sitting down in the chair, tapping the mouse with his hand and waiting for the screen to return from standby mode. * * * Omi blinked his eyes open wearily, letting a soft "mm" escape his lips as he shifted, rolling over onto his back and draping an arm over his eyes to block out any light from the windows. It was routine, something he did every morning before dragging himself out of bed, however subconscious the actions might have been. Only this time, there were no windows for sunlight to be filtering through, and no sun to be filtering through them anyway. Omi's eyes widened, and he sat up abruptly. Apparently, he'd fallen asleep in the basement. The question of how he managed to get onto the couch was answered by the soft clearing of a throat from the direction of the computer; a familiar, slender figure sat in the chair he'd been occupying earlier, a golden earring catching the light of the desk lamp as Aya tilted his head slightly, propping his arm up on the desk and resting his chin in his hand. "Finally awake?" Omi blushed, avoiding the midly scrutinizing lilac gaze of his colleague. "I--I'm sorry, Aya-kun," he managed, his voice still scratchy from sleep. He coughed lightly into his hand, then continued. "I fell asleep while I was working, I'll finish the report now--" Rubbing his eyes slightly, he pushed the blanket aside and made to stand up, still doing everything he could to keep his eyes focussed on something other than the redhead. It was embarrassing to think he'd been caught--particularly by Aya. If it had been Youji or Ken, he probably would have received a mild scolding and had to put up with a little bit of teasing, but with Aya... "No," Aya interjected, standing up himself and walking over to Omi, pressing his hands to the younger boy's shoulders and forcing the blonde to sit again. Omi finally looked up at him, cornflower-blue eyes growing wider and the flush on his face deepening with that movement. Aya met that gaze without flinching, and it was Omi who looked away first. "It's not good for you...to be getting as little sleep as you have been," Aya explained, his tone neutral. He removed his hands from Omi's shoulders, looking down at the younger boy critically. From this viewpoint, Omi really did look his age--a child, who shouldn't be in a job such as this. Likewise, from Omi's position on the couch, Aya looked ten times more threatening than usual. Violet eyes grew a touch colder, boring into sapphire ones, and Aya crossed his arms over his chest. If anyone in their group looked the part of an assassin, it was Aya. Black tank, black slacks, black boots. Tall, sleek, deadly. Beautiful. Omi was reminded of a panther--not the common domestic cats of their codenames, but a panther. It was much more appropriate in Aya's case. "What would you have done if I was an intruder?" Omi was startled back to the present by the sound of Aya's voice, and he blinked, it taking a moment to register the taller man's words. Before he could reply, however, Aya continued. "You completely let your guard down. I carried you from the computer chair to this couch without you so much as flinching. If I had been anyone else, you could be dead right now, and all of our information hacked from that computer." He nodded in the computer's direction for emphasis. "And I finished the report, so there isn't any reason for you to get up just yet." At a loss for words, Omi tried hard to find something to say to that. "I'm really, really sorry," he repeated lamely, wishing he could come up with something a little more intelligent than that. "I'll work harder next time, Aya-kun. I won't let it happen again." "No. Not harder. That's what's getting you into trouble. Right now, you're going to sleep," Aya said firmly, already turning back toward the stairs. "W-wait, Aya-kun!" Omi was up in a second, hurrying after the other assassin and grabbing his arm as he began to make his way up the stairs. Aya turned to look at him slowly, curiosity very slightly evident in hard-to-read purple eyes. Omi was visibly embarrassed, regretting his actions nearly as quickly as he'd gone through with them. He snatched his hand away, looking down at his feet. It wasn't like he had a reason for what he did... "Yes?" Aya's tone was mildly accusatory, and he was obviously waiting for an explanation. "Um...I was wondering if...maybe you could keep me company," Omi fumbled, continuing to stare down at his sock-clad feet. He felt ridiculous now, and he was more than certain he'd never hear the end of this from Youji and Ken if it happened to leak out to them. Which it undoubtedly would, at some point or other. It was true, though, that some small part of him was hoping for Aya to stay. How often was it that he got a chance to speak with him on his own? Rarely, if ever. And yes, Aya seemed to be less than happy with him at the moment, but the chances of talking to Aya in a pleasant mood were slim to nothing. Aya's eyebrows raised slightly of their own accord, not expecting that answer. If he thought about it, Omi was probably the most pleasant to be around of his three colleagues...but the thought of really spending time with him on his own was one that hadn't really crossed his mind. "Why?" to be continued... return to splash page