The Persia-recording snaps off, leaving us in darkness and me with my mouth open like a fish.

On top of everything else today, it's just the last straw; I burst out laughing. Aya just stands there. For all the expression on his face our boss might have told us to go pick up dry cleaning, not... Eventually I choke off the bitter sounds and take a deep breath.

"Has "Persia" gone nuts? He wants us to punish Ken and Omi?"

"Don't think about it," Aya says quietly, looking at the floor. "This is just another mission."

What?

I push up a sleeve of the coat and pinch myself hard. No, not a nightmare. Is someone messing with my head? "Aya, you _can't_ be serious."

He stares at me, stony cold. "Youji, what can you be saying? We are Weiss."

What?

It's been a long horrible day and my body knows exactly what it wants to do. A hard punch to the face for Aya to deflect, then a fist to the gut and knee to the groin; he crumples, gasping.

What?

Dazedly I throw open the door to the outdoors again, and the room floods with light. Everything looks deceptively normal; no clues as to why the world went insane in the last thirty seconds. For a moment I consider simply flopping down in the snow and lying there until it covers me. The heavens have been spitting on me for years, why not give them a clear shot?

Instead I lean against the oak tree at the edge of the trailer park and glare into the drifting flakes. Omi named it the "sulking tree" two days after we arrived, since everyone comes here when there's no time to run away but they can't stand the rest of Weiss one more minute. Even though the branches keep most of the show off, the ground is speckled white with cigarette butts.

Okay, get a grip, Kudou. Just close your eyes and think.

Fact #1: Omi is the apple of Manx's little cold eye. The rest of us are expendable tools, but she's almost motherly towards him. I'm sure she had something to do with his upbringing.

Fact #2: Aya has at least twice that I know of told Kritiker where to stick their mission orders and gone off to brood on his own. Almost got us killed, too.

Fact #3: On the other hand, in the bizarre little conversation we just had he said something like "Kritiker holds the hand of legality over us." Did they threaten Aya somehow? Disobey and you'll wake up in the police station; they'll have giftwrapped evidence on all your kills and you'll have nothing but a crazed conspiracy story.

This almost adds up to four. Conclusion: Youji is an idiot and the world makes as much sense as it ever has. I can deal with that. When a shadow falls across me some minutes later, I tell him without opening my eyes, "Aya, how long have you known-"

He backhands me, hard enough to bruise, and the sunglasses go flying. Before I can do more than yelp Aya's full weight is pinning me to the tree. /Coat off/, he breathes in my ear, almost inaudible; then his hands are busy unfastening, baring my throat. Then he kisses me.

It's an act, I know (his lips are warm) so I take it without protest, helping him (he hasn't had much practice) undo the hooks and eyes that hold (does he hate it?) my coat closed, until it's (hold still mouth shut) hanging loose and he pushes it off my shoulders (he tastes my lips, carefully) to crumple (god) in the snow. Finally, he lets me breathe.

"Aya," unsteady in my own ears. "Where?"

What is it in his eyes? Not disgust. Not indifference either, though he's trying hard for it. Quickly he looks away. "The shed."

Only Aya would call it that. Really it's just the large tarp stretched over poles to protect supplies from the winter. Close, safe, and a shelter from the wind that's cutting through my shoulderblades. "Aa."

He grabs my hand and pulls me. By the corner he kisses me once more, hard; I make dramatic shivering wouldn't-a-warm-bed-be-nicer? gestures and get shoved backwards onto bags of peat soil. Kicking the tarp into place, he crawls in on top of me.

There's a minute of awkward shifting before we find a good position, so he doesn't have to feel my erection and we can whisper in each other's ears. Also so his body warms mine, an important point with my back against cold plastic.

"Aya, how long have you known we were being watched?"

He doesn't want to answer that. "...Four days."

I lay fingers on his throat, just lightly at the pressure points. "You _won't_ keep something like that to yourself again."

Silence. If it wasn't so damn _cold_ this would be like nights in the trailer, only better. Aya has his arms around me and his breath stirs my hair. Fortunately I have years of practice operating through a haze of lust. "Has Kritiker gone bad, then?"

"No." Definitive. "Manx is a prisoner, giving us false orders. Someone has found a way to coerce her."

I blink. "And you know this because?"

Aya sighs into my hair. After a moment I nudge him with an elbow and he grunts annoyance. "...Codes."

"Codes? Aya, even with me a quickie in the shed only takes so long. They'll be expecting us out soon. Talk _fast_. "

I feel the suppressed snort of laughter, and smirk. "Kritiker codes. You don't know them." And don't ask why I do, says his tone. "Manx twice this week referred to black lilies, which are the code for lies. Both this mission and the two previous came from an enemy."

That means - "Hey!" I hiss into his ear, raising my head. "So that kid was never a real target and you knew it? Ken went through all that angst for nothing?"

He pushes my face back down into his shoulder. "I could not refuse without alerting the enemy. Ken's actions were unpredictable. As usual."

"Maybe so," I'm not mollified by resting against him, breathing his scent on soft skin. "And I'm not grieving over the other guy you killed. But Hibana Akira is just a kid avenging his family and protecting his sister. Like you, Aya. You can't just decide to murder him because it's...strategic!"

Aya doesn't answer for a long moment. "I was trying." Quiet, muffled.

I sigh, and tighten my arms around him for a second; he tenses. "Saa, now what? The trailer is bugged, our work clothes are bugged, our cellphones are hopeless, and wherever Ken and Omi are they're probably walking right into a trap. Who are these guys?"

"US military," he murmurs. "Some of their trucks were fueling at the base when I went in to kill Nichols. Likely an inside power struggle, from the pattern of kills. A corrupt general. Hibana and the girls for investigating his activities."

"Mm. And somehow they tangled with Kritiker." A year ago the thought of some gaijin bastards getting the drop on our employers would have been ludicrous. But resources have been thin since the battle with Esstet; I can tell from the supplies they send us, and the way Manx turns down every single expense request. She probably won't pay to fix my car even if we save her life.

"Hey." I poke Aya in the ribs. "You know so much about Kritiker, then contact one of the other assassin teams. Send them a meaningful flower arrangement. Bleeding-hearts and black-eyed susans, maybe." _We're_ not going to be able to do much. A surprise attack on the base...in civvies and with unfamiliar weapons? I never take my watch off, but everything else is suspect. And if they can't track any of us in person or electronically for more than a few minutes they'll probably shoot Manx on general principles. I would.

The last time Aya and me were this closely monitored it wasn't pretty either.

"Youji..." He rests his chin on my head. "Weiss is the only team left."

Oh. "Esstet killed them _all_?" I whisper. "Sweet fuck, no wonder they hid us in a trailer. Manx must have had her hands full protecting us and Aya-chan," oh god I am so stupid, "both." His sister in Tokyo. The light of his life. Whom Manx looks after. She brings us a letter with the supplies every month, addressed to "Ran-niichan" and decorated with those little sparkly stickers girls like.

Did these guys snatch Manx while she was visiting Aya-chan?

"Aya, I'm sure she's safe..." That doesn't sound convincing even to me.

His fingers dig into my wrist painfully, and he twists. "_Don't_."

"'kay," I gasp. Change the subject quick. "Plan. Aya, we need a plan."

No help from outside. No way to contact the other two or even know if they're all right. I'm really hoping Aya has something clever in mind here. Instead he whispers, "I don't know." The grip on my wrist has slackened a little.

Maybe ten more minutes before staying in here will look really suspicious. Maybe it already does.

What the hell can _I_ come up with?

Oh.

I smile into Aya's shoulder. "Know anything about stage effects?"

* * *

Ironic that all this should have one little side benefit. Supposedly depressed, doubtful men often ignore rules like "don't smoke in the trailer". They're known to lie around slacking off from work. And then they have an excellent excuse to go tobacco shopping, where they might just be able to shake off prying eyes for a bit. Long enough to buy the things we'll need.

Mind you, smoking two entire packs at once is not as much fun as I thought it would be.

I let the cigarette in my mouth burn down to ash as I stare wearily at the ceiling. This is going to be tricky to pull off. /Ludicrous,/ Aya had said. /The stupidest plan you've ever suggested./

/On duty, anyway. Can you think of a better idea?/

/No./

There's no way to tell for sure if they actually did plant bugs in our work clothes, or the weapons. Or in the trailer at all, come to that. But the enemy knew Ken and Omi refused to kill Akira, and they knew _I'd_ been willing to. No listeners down in those sewers; I would have heard them.

And Aya said they'd been watching the trailer for days. And that "mission call" just when we were discussing what to do about Akira was a little too coincidental. I don't blame Aya for being paranoid.

He kissed me, the bastard. After practically saying straight out he knows I love him. There are other ruses to get a man out of his coat and off for some private conversation; he didn't have to pretend we were lovers and drag me off to the shed like that. He didn't have to rest his thigh just there and embarrass us both.

Maybe he's - curious. That kiss certainly was. I know a virgin when I live with one, and Aya has never been laid; he's twenty-three and frustrated as hell if his dreams are any clue, and living with handsome Kudou Youji who knows dozens of ways to make him cry with pleasure. Not to mention the noises Omi and Ken make some nights would put Buddha himself into heat.

Maybe he's too shy to ask. Aya will do anything when it comes to missions, but outside them he's intensely modest and reserved and sex makes him nervous. I can see it whenever a girl gets within two feet of him. Maybe...after this is over and the bastards are dead and we're all safe, I should come up behind him. Kiss his neck so lightly, the way I wanted to in the shed. Brush my lips from behind his ear down to the base of his throat in one soft stroke. And then back off, and see where he chooses to sleep that night.

I wonder if the enemy and their little cameras can see how hard I am. It's tempting to just unzip and jerk off right here on the sofa, give them a show. Aya is in the plant room acting his role of icy killer; he'll stay there until he hears me drive off.

But it'd be out of character for a man who's supposedly thinking about killing his teammates. I _should_ be thinking about how to pass the news to Ken and Omi, how to keep us all alive tonight.

I really do know how to make him cry in pleasure now. It was months ago - that time when every night I was a little less sober and a little less picky about who to take home. She had badly-dyed red hair and unhealthy pale skin, and so much junk in her system she passed out in the hotel room face down before we'd gotten much of anywhere.

Most women aren't interested in that at all. Neither was I, before Aya; with heaven between their legs, why complain? Since then I'd thought now and then of persuading some pretty young thing, taking her slowly and carefully, holding and kissing her. Just to see once what it would be like.

It was a horrible thing to do. I looked for her weeks afterwards, to apologize, but never found her. She must have woken up sore and terrified; Kritiker physicals are thorough and I'm clean, but she had no way to know that. She was unconscious while I came twice, grinding her ass into the bed with my eyes closed and moaning his name on each stroke.

God damn those cameras. Now I need to hide in the bathroom.

* * *
to be continued

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