What to do with you

My gravest apologies, I couldn't figure out what I forgot yesterday and was half way to work this morning when I remembered; to post. Oops. Forgive me, please, and I hope you'll do me the favor of reviewing. Thank you.


Chapter 3

The bit of luggage was collected from the small hotel and Schuldig followed Farfarello out the door, wandering along as they made their way through a maze to a little apartment two blocks from the original house. “This is where you've been staying?” Not that it was a bad place, but the neighborhood went downhill rapidly from their first position and the building was on the edge of the seediest part of the city.

A grunt was his response and the brunet followed quietly up to the top floor to explore a mostly empty set of rooms. There were three rooms and a bathroom; the floors were blank and a set of dishes was visible in the kitchen sink, the corner of a mattress just peeking from the door to the bedroom. Weapons were strewn about the living room area, lined up along the edges of a clear square, where Schuldig was certain the blond worked out, an old favorite pastime. The blond followed his partner around, watching him touch the few things that had been transplanted from their home. *It's nice, Farfie.*

“It's alright. We'll find somewhere better. First, we need food and to make a drop. I have a job tonight but it won't take long. I'll be back by midnight.” Dark hair tilted curiously but the psychopath's tone left the subject closed and he let it be.

“As you like. Shower?” Because he hadn't used the hotel's yesterday and was feeling decidedly grimy. Not that sharing a shower with Farf was ever a hardship. He was disappointed to be waved ahead but shrugged it off as he stripped and dug clean clothes out of his bag.

The bathroom was as spartan as he'd expected, soap, an all in one shampoo and a few small toiletries, all scentless. Everything was spotless, again as expected, with the exception of a pair of soft towels hung over the shower bar to dry. A quick sniff proved them to be imbued with the blond's scent and they were hugged for a minute, crushed in trembling arms. It felt as if he'd been given a second chance; how tacky.

His shower was quick and hot, steam billowing out the door when he opened it while he toweled his hair dry; a plate of noodles and stir-fried vegetables was placed on the counter while his partner ate from a bowl. “Eat. We'll leave as soon as you're dressed.” Clean pans were already drying in the sink and Schuldig was impressed; frankly, he hadn't thought Farfarello knew how to do dishes.

The thought must have shown on his face because the bowl was set down and slow, graceful steps brought him face to face with the younger man, noses nearly touching. “I'm not as useless as you believe, my crazy little telepath.”

Anger flared and a vicious finger jabbed into the thin ribcage. “I. Am. NOT. Crazy.” Cool, assessing eyes watched him tremble with rage. “Don't call me crazy.” He'd heard voices for years and had thought he really was insane at one point, the steady buzz of thoughts leaving him on edge all through his teenage years, too afraid of the doctors, of being a freak, to say anything.

Silence between them and Schuldig regretted saying anything; starting a fight on their first day didn't bode well for them sticking together. The quiet stretched and finally, white hair tilted and the pointing finger was brushed away. “And I'm not useless.”

“I didn't say you were. I don't think that, I never thought that. For fuck's sake, Far, you can't possibly be useless when I need you so badly.” The pale hand that had slapped at him was captured and kissed, a nip at the knuckle added as an apology. Pleased humming vibrated through the blond and his partner grinned at him before sucking the slender digit into his mouth.

“No, not yet. Later, we have to make this drop or carry it around for the next three days. And you want somewhere nice, don't you?” Bribery was a great tool, particularly when it came to Schuldig's comfort.

It was shrugged off and the telepath reached over and grabbed the plate, eating quickly while leaning against Farfarello's chest. “Alright, so where are we going?”

The tight ass was pinched and a gasp of outrage was chuckled over. “Nowhere until you get dressed. Then, we'll pick up Candy, take her to the bank and get started on an apartment.”

The brunet opened his mouth to ask why they just couldn't stay here but picked up a thought that this wasn't good enough for him and he needed somewhere nice to live. His mouth closed with a smile and he hugged his partner quickly before bouncing off to get dressed. By the time he was back, hair brushed up and clothes tidy, the scarred man was showered and dressed, long hair tied in a series of tiny braids. “Holy fuck, you're hot!”

And he did not mean to say that out loud. Pale cheeks burned, a hand covering his wayward mouth; damn, he always knew he talked too much! But the smile in his partner's eyes was worth it, the pleasure at being desired reflecting back as gold looked him over appreciatively. *Beautiful, as always.* More red raced through the brunet's cheeks at the compliment before he grabbed his coat and headed for the door, trying to outrun his embarrassment.

The drop went smoothly; it was a simple matter of picking up the girl, taking the cab to the bank and waiting until she was done before giving her her reward. Schuldig didn't get a chance to count it, but the package was thick and she stammered her thanks before they put her in another cab back. *She's totally loyal to you.*

*Money does that. As long as I have it, she'll keep coming.* A casual dismissal and Schuldig burned to ask exactly how much he had.

Well, manners never stopped him before. *How much do you make a job? How often do you take them? What kinds of jobs are you doing?*

Thin brows rose but he was answered easily. *One or two a week, depending on how ambitious I feel. Price depends on how many and if a specific location is given. Otherwise, I take the easiest route, fewest fatalities possible. Police tend to discourage future business. And really, what kind of jobs do you think I'm doing?* A smug look from the corner of a pale eye. *What I'm best at.*

*That's what you're on tonight? Why can't I come?* Even if the subject had been a bit touchy earlier, maybe he could get something now. A mental probe came against nothing; he couldn't even locate the blond without looking directly at him.

“Leave it. You stay home and I'll be back.” The former redhead started to argue and was silenced with the slap of a palm on the counter top. “Schu-Schu, it's personal.” A nickname calling offense then; interesting.

Full lips worked in a heavy pout, dark eyes half lidded. “Fine. Keep your old secret then.” He could work himself into a full on tantrum but he was feeling a bit lazy now that he was fed, clean, and didn't have to run his shields at full power all the time. “What kind of apartment did you want?”

A slightly wolfish grin. “The perfect one, of course.” A cab was called and Schuldig made a note to check into getting a vehicle of their own. The ride was reasonably short, and they got out in front of a tall building with large windows; one of the most sought after areas in the city.

“What the hell? We can't afford this.” It felt strange to be the one objecting to luxury, but the dark haired man was more interested in a permanent home than a really nice, temporary one.

Farfarello sighed and stood, hands on his hips. “Yes, we can. Not to mention the owner hasn't paid me yet. An apartment should just about cover it.” His partner gaped, mouth open. At nearly 100,000 a year in rent, and who knew how long they would stay, the price was more than he'd ever considered paying for an apartment.

And would just about cover the job. “Fucking hell, how the fuck much do you charge?”

White teeth flashed in a teasing grin. “You get what you pay for, and I'm the best.” Still not an answer but the former assassin let himself be led inside and watched the day clerk fall all over herself in an effort to get her boss on the line. A few quiet words and the pair were shown into a meeting room where they lounged in soft chairs until a short, skinny little man hustled through the door.

“What are you doing here? I told you, I'll have your money, soon. It's just” He was cut off abruptly by the blond gliding to his feet to tower over him.

“I do not care about your problems. I've come to collect my fee.” A sharp smile flashed slightly pointed canines. “However, it is your lucky day. Instead of the money, I have decided to accept an apartment in exchange. Fully furnished and all bills will of course be included.”

The owner licked his lips nervously; having a known, to him at least, killer in his building wasn't really a positive thing. “An apartment? Just the apartment and bills?” Rows of tiny braids tilted in acknowledgment. “Of course, I'll have one cleared out by this evening! Is there one you would prefer?” Schuldig was taken aback at his sudden eagerness, greed shining through to smother his inhibitions, and only blinked when Farfarello looked over at him.

*Well?*

*This place has an elevator, right?*

*Of course.*

*Top floor! Top, top, top!*

An indulgent smile and the blond turned back to face their soon to be landlord. “Something at the top will do nicely.”

“Of course, of course. Will you be waiting? There is a charming restaurant a block over, I would be pleased to call the manager for you.” The little body nearly wriggled with eagerness. “The tab will be sent to me, of course.”

“No, we have other business to take care of. We'll be back before supper and move in then.” Schuldig followed in a daze as they made their way out and settled into the car the blond called as if by magic.

“Fuck.”

“Hmm?” Farfarello lounged, legs stretched out as much as possible, practically laying in the former redhead's lap.

Habit took over and long fingers scritched along behind an exposed ear. “We're just moving in, just like that. No effort, no work, no power, just you say so and it happens.”

“Hmm.” More of a purr now and the lanky body twisted to press a sharp nose into the flat stomach. “What? Do you want to work for it? That's not like you.” There was a smile pressed against the soft shirt, pale hands running down smooth sides.

*Don't be a jerk, you know what I mean.* Warm air was breathed out in a sigh and the brunet smiled. *So, what's next?*

*Clothes for you, food. I'll drop you off and go out. Shouldn't take long.*

The vehicle stopped before the telepath could complain about being left behind again and he was ushered out to stare at neat lines of cars. “Go pick one.” Dark eyes stared. “Come on, we don't have all day.” *Let me spoil you, I want to buy you things.*

That was... different. Usually, Farfarello nagged about waiting for his partner to shop, fidgeted outside stores, and was a general pain in the ass when it came to spending money. Then the wording had the pale skin flushing bright pink. As if he were a girl to be courted and coddled. *Schuldig, go pick one out. You'll be driving it.* The hint of exasperation perked him up a bit and he wandered off; maybe a little spoiling.

A gorgeous candy-red convertible caught his eye but he only stayed a few seconds, running his fingers over the edges. It would be impossible to keep a low profile with that, no matter how pretty. A two door would be best, small, efficient, unnoticeable, and a pair sitting together near the back pulled him over. As he stood, finger in his mouth while he thought, slim arms tucked around his waist from behind. “Like them?” The warm whisper brushed his ear along with a smile, sending shivers down his back.

“They're kinda nice. Practical.” He felt strange saying that; he'd never done a practical thing in his life.

Apparently Farfarello agreed. “Pick one you like, Schu. Don't worry about anything” Gentle squeezing drew the slender body backwards to press firmly to the thinner one. *I'll look after you. You're mine and you aren't getting away as easily again.*

*I'm not a girl, Farfie, I don't need looking after. And I'm not leaving. You're stuck with me now.* “That one, I want that one.” His finger pointed out the green car; there was just something so much more sexy about driving a stick-shift.

“Done.” A flick of the wrist brought the salesman running and it was a simple matter to sign the paperwork; in minutes, Brian Derkson and Lucas MacDermott were the new owners of a little Sunfire. *Brian Derkson? Not very patriotic of you.* At least he'd chosen an Irish name to go by.

*Shut up, I needed to move and those were the first two names that I picked up.* The dealer was looking at them strangely, watching the skinny blond laugh at some unsaid joke, the heavier brunet glaring at him. “Are we done?”

“Ah, yes, I believe so. Mr. MacDermott, I'll finish up the arrangements and have the payment completed tomorrow. Enjoy your new vehicle.” He decided to just finish up and leave it alone; he had been paid, the sale would go on his record, really, nothing else mattered.

A grin was flashed at him and the blond stood, pulling his companion to his feet. “Shall we?”

*Ooh, manners no less!* Schuldig tried not to wriggle; his own car again! The seat was soft and fit his back perfectly, the new-car smell wafting up as he settled. *Perfect.* His hands ran over the wheel and fiddled with the radio a bit while Farfarello watched with a smile. A scarred hand reached over and tilted the dark head up and around for a kiss, tongue sliding in to caress; pleased pale eyes watched the desire flare into being. “Thank you, Far. It's beautiful.” Another little kiss was pressed to the soft lips before he pulled away and relaxed into the passenger side seat.

“Let's break her in. Lunch, clothes, groceries. We can stop and get my things too.” He watched the tension ease away from his partner; it had clung to him like a stubborn stain, refusing to give up its hold. Laughter, bright and happy, was drowned out by the engine rolling over as they slid from the lot and into early afternoon traffic. By six, the backseat was full and Schuldig was showing signs of sleepiness.

Farfarello snagged a pair of teens loitering in the parking lot and bribed them into carrying everything upstairs. Schuldig just tagged along, tired and ready for a nap. The apartment was huge, at least by Schuldig's standards, and he explored a bit while their purchases were lined up in the entrance; two bedrooms, each with their own bathroom attached, a large, open kitchen, an office complete with desk and bookshelves, and a living room with a long, fluffy couch and a huge television against the wall. The outside wall had a sliding glass door that led out to a wide balcony and the brunet immediately lit a smoke, inhaling gleefully. He hadn't had one for hours, too busy shopping and running around.

*Hey.* Warm skin pressed to his back.

*Hey.* Soft kisses touched his collar and nipped at an ear. *Got time for a round?*

One last nibble and he regretted the loss of warmth against him. “No.” When the telepath turned, he saw his roommate was dressed for hunting, tight dark pants and a light harness with the usual assortment of weaponry attached. “Tomorrow.”

A flick sent the still lit cigarette floating over the railing and a soft sigh preceded the softer touch of a finger along the scar crossing the slightly pointed nose. “You're absolutely not taking me with you?” Short braids shook immediately. “Fine. But you tell me everything when you get back.” Thin lips twitched but the blond nodded. “About Brad and Nagi too.” More nodding and the younger man started to feel like a bobble doll. “Well, get going. The sooner you leave the sooner you get back.”

One final kiss and he was off, long strides to the door, latches flipped for it to swing open. *And Far?* He paused, waiting, not looking back. *Be careful. Come home.*

The door closed quietly and he leaned against it for a moment, hearing the note of hope in his partner's voice. He'd changed, was softer, more delicate seeming, and it wasn't bad, just, different. Of course, Farfarello himself had changed, becoming more self sufficient, more controlled, more appreciative of what he had, so it was to be expected. It had been a long, hard year, for both of them, and of course they weren't the same. Hell, as long as he wasn't confronted directly with it, he could even leave God alone. The question was, could they still function as the seamless team they'd been?

His head shook and he shoved away from the door to jog down the stairs, warming up for the evening. Taking the new car was an option but he decided to run, stretching his legs before his target came into sight. The house was still well lit, servants and guards moving in the windows but that was as it should be; this was a message and leaving it directly under the noses of elite guards would drive it home even more.

The wall was a simple matter, the wires on top avoided gracefully, and a convenient accident by one of the maids served as an excellent distraction; it was always easier if he didn't have to provide his own. Third story, second window from the left, should have a balcony, and there it was, only five feet from the one below. Quiet jumps brought the blond up to peer over the edge of the window while he picked the lock carefully, not leaving any marks; a girl, no more than twelve, lay on her stomach crying quietly in the middle of a huge bed. She was naked, bruises on her back and butt, a blue nightie thrown beside the bed.

Once the lock was open, the blond slipped in and crept over to stand beside her, hand over her mouth. “Shh, we're leaving.” Fear sparked at him as he grabbed her nightgown and tugged it over her head; he lifted the small weight and slung her over his shoulder “Be quiet, I don't want to have to fight my way out of here with you over my shoulder” Soft hair nodded against his back and he patted her thigh once, stepping out the window onto the balcony.

“Saaannnndraaaaa.” She whimpered at the sing-song calling of her name and Farfarello swore. He'd meant to come back later and finish this part of the job.

The sound of a lock clicking was unnaturally loud in the still room and the door opened with a bang. “Where are you, my little muffin? Want to show Daddy how appreciative you are that he hasn't killed you?” Soft sobs were muffled against the blond's back as the taunting voice gave way to swearing and stomping towards the still open balcony window.

Sandra was set down and pressed into the corner, railing hard and still sun warm against her back. Farfarello's narrow back seemed wide and comforting, her hands tiny against his skin. The curtain whipped to the side and the blond sprang, momentum sending the two men rolling to the floor with a loud thud. Wide blue eyes peeked around the corner to watch the struggle for the knife gleaming between her captor and rescuer. For a second, the curtain obscured her view and when she fought it aside, the large Japanese man was sprawled on his back, metal pressed to his throat.

Farfarello hissed down at him, aware of the girl behind them. “Very lucky. Very, very lucky. I would have come back for you, but no time now.” Wide black eyes stared up as the knife started to move, pleas on the thick lips for mercy. The blond's hand stopped, a light touch on his elbow.

“Please.” Dark hair framed the small face and a trembling smile. “Please.”

“Yes, good girl Sandra! You don't want to see me murdered, now do you?” Her short hair shook and he grinned, certain in his victory.

“No, I don't.” Her hand slid down the tight arm to rest on the handle of the knife; it was released instantly. That look, the need that drummed in the small body were familiar things to her blond rescuer. “I want to do it myself.” Her abuser didn't have time to utter another word, just a shocked sound as the blade passed through his throat like water. Blood sprayed, covering all three and the girl stared down before peeking up at Farfarello, waiting for him to turn away or be disgusted.

“Come, there's not much time.” She was slung up onto a shoulder again and clung as they went back down the wall to the second floor balcony where she was set on her feet. The blond jumped and held up his arms for her to jump into; blue closed and she leapt, free-falling for an instant before strong arms yanked her from the air. The garden gate was used, the guard crumpled in a heap as they bolted down back alleys to a car waiting a few blocks over.

“Sandra?”

“Papa!” She was running the second her feet touched the ground, half throwing herself through the car window to hug her father.

Congealing blood smeared both of them, staining the expensive suit, but they hugged and chatted animatedly. During a lull, the tall, slender man turned to face the blond assassin. “Thank you. The money is”

“I don't want your money.” A brief flit of a grin. “I didn't do anything for it.” A puzzled look was directed to the girl tucked under a suited arm but she shrugged and buried her face in the thick fabric. “May we call my debt settled?”

“What? You have no debt to me, as you have never had. It was given as a gift.” The older man straightened and reverted to formal language. “Any and all debts between us were cleared long ago.”

“And now as well. Good evening, James.” A slight bow.

James bowed back. “Good evening, Farfarello.” He was the only person who called him by his old name, other than Schuldig. The blond vanished into the shadows, leaving father and daughter staring after him.

*****************

A quick stop was made in a park to rinse the worst of the blood off before heading back to the apartment where Schuldig waited. 'Maybe I should go for a run first.' A slow jog around the park did nothing to calm the itch between his shoulders; he's anticipated a long, drawn out session of playing with his victim and was antsy from being denied. Not that he begrudged the girl her revenge, but he had wanted it for himself. And the last thing he wanted was to go back and jump the telepath, after all this time apart.

Why did he forgive him so easily? Maybe it was the dropping of shields, something Schuldig would never have done before, the desperation in his eyes, the pleading tone. Maybe it was just that he missed his partner, his lover, his friend and wanted to believe him. Could he really have sent him away? His head pounded to think of it, chest squeezed tightly. If only he could think of something else, this run might actually calm him down.

A hot shower would help, and a decent night's sleep. Surely he had enough control to go back and get cleaned up without attacking Schuldig. At least he thought he did, until he opened the door to see the brunet waiting for him, mostly naked, just a towel around his hips, and fast asleep on the couch. Smooth skin was irresistible and scarred fingertips skittered over the flat chest to brush a soft nipple; a low groan heralded consciousness and pale blue eyes flicked open.

*Hey.* Sleepy blue eyes fluttered closed again in a wide yawn. “Shower?” Blood still clung to the black harness in dried, brownish colored flakes and the little white braids were coated. Copper was a sweet scent, delicate and heavy at the same time and the brunet couldn't resist the temptation to push up and steal a kiss, tongue flicking along to test the spot of color on thin lips.

Low growling and the naked form was swept up and carried effortlessly to the bedroom, feet kicking in surprise, towel floating to the floor behind them. The older man didn't fight, arms around thin shoulders as he was thoroughly kissed, lips, neck, the curve of his ear; he bounced on the bed and moved to crawl back over. A snarl stopped him and he leaned back, spreading his legs and reaching up, eager and willing; his cock was hard from only the quick kisses and the show of aggression. The pillows were soft under his head and he felt behind him to move them all under his back, lifting himself up to watch his long absent lover undress.

Thick straps were unbuckled quickly and the harness fell to the floor with a clink of metal, clips and knives scattering on the floor; the tight pants were undone and inched down trim hips, the process slow from the thick fluid still clinging and the erection straining against its confines, making it difficult to move easily. Every wiggle and arch of the body on the bed was memorized, gold staring intently as the brunet maneuvered, cock bouncing lightly against his stomach, bright curls framing the slightly red length.

Finally, Farfarello's clothes were off and he fell on the bed, scrambling to kneel on all fours over the pale eyed man. A low snarl before he leaned in to taste, nipping at tight skin, drawing small cries and an arched back. Need beamed at him, lust filled eyes wide, quick hands racing over his body, short nails digging into taut muscle.

Lips met harshly, teeth attacking the delicate skin, moans gripping him in a flurry of desire, pushing him further, faster, crying for more. He'd meant to explore the slender body completely, to take his time getting reacquainted but it wouldn't happen, not tonight; he was simply too worked up, too energized. There was a squeak of surprise when he broke their mouths apart and flipped the dark haired man to his stomach. Schuldig started to push back but froze when a hard bite broke the skin of his shoulder; soft ticklish licking apologized and soothed as he relaxed, burying his face in the pillow pile.

Nipping kisses followed the brunet's spine and he wriggled and arched into them, hips moving restlessly between the firm mattress and the wet mouth. The curve of his ass had rough nails scratched over the tender skin and he sobbed into his fluffy muffler; firm, round cheeks were spread and the warm mouth moved between them, tongue flicking lightly around the edges of the tight entrance. Physical, audible cries were muffled but the mental cries echoed in Farfarello's mind, screaming as his eyes slid closed, hot salt on his tongue.

He'd half expect Schuldig to slip lube into the groceries, but he hadn't, and at the time, it really hadn't occurred to him to get some. One finger pressed gently, opening the small pucker easily and the older man relaxed, legs shifting further apart, quiet little moans still vibrating through his body. This would do, for now; a second finger eased in to trembling and pleaded demands, tongue still flicking along stretched skin. The blond's other arm wrapped around the thrusting hips and pulled them back firmly, anchoring his lover under his mouth and fingers, forearm rubbing the twitching length between the brunet's thighs. Easy thrusting of the two fingers led to a third being tucked in and slightly pained whines were soothed with licks and nibbles along the crease where buttock met thigh.

*You bastard, hurry up!* Farfarello laughed into soft skin; so he'd teased his big mouthed partner into silence. Perhaps he could hurry up, just a bit. His fingers twisted and rubbed firmly against the prostate, the little bump trembling under his fingertips. Schuldig screamed and jerked his hips, forcing them down enough to rub against the blanket, and came in long, shivering convulsions, panting and crying.

Or this would work well too. The wet mess was scooped into the palm of a pale hand as he nudged his loose telepath over onto his back, where he lay, still panting and grinned up, pleased with himself and the world in general. “Missed you, missed this. You're so fucking good.”

Two fingers slid back in, spreading the cooling semen as he worked to loosen the relaxed body further. “Yep, I'm the best.”

Blue fluttered closed and slender arms wound around his neck. “Yeah, you really are. Come here, I want you inside me.” A lazy smile, reaching arms, an eager body; who could resist that? Just watching his redhead, brunet, whatever he was, had calmed his nerves and he didn't feel as rushed now. Eager, hell yes, but not out of control. Lean fingers tucked next to the soft cock, rubbing lightly to encourage growth while he lined his hips up and slicked his own thickness with the last of the thick seed.

Slow, steady pushing into tight heat, muscle contracting around him as he entered, soft cries muffled under his lips. Short nails clawed down his back as he pressed against the sweet spot, sharp teeth nipping his bottom lip open as he forced the last few inches inside. They both panted, clinging to each other as the brunet shuddered and whined, his blond lover trembling over him, trying to wait until he was ready. “Far, now, move.” The soft, choked voice rose with every word, the last cracking as a callused, scarred hand moved on his cock, sensitized skin jerking.

Slow strokes had the telepath squirming, legs holding tightly, pulling to force the hard body against his. Every push brought a pull of the brunet's dick and a whimpered cry. Faster thrusts brought faster tugs, more cries, sharper bites and tighter arms. “Far!” Dark hair tossed, back arched into a sharp curve, hips jerking for more, deeper, and the blond provided. Hard, deep thrusts slammed the prostate with each stroke, his hand squeezing and rubbing, thumb rounding the head as he bit down on the smooth chest that rose to his mouth.

Convulsions started, traveling from the tense shoulders to the tight ass, spasming the hot channel as Schuldig came again, mouth open soundlessly, eyes screwed shut. The sight shoved Farfarello after him, a soft cry on his lips as he thrust a few more times, drawing it out as much as possible. Loosening braids rested above the sluggishly bleeding bite mark as their breathing calmed and muscles relaxed.

The telepath hummed quietly and wiggled a bit after a few minutes, a little uncomfortable after so many months without. “Schu, hold still.” There was a soft sliding sound as the blond pulled away and they both groaned, Schuldig curling in a ball on his side.

“Damn.” Shivers ran over his skin and the brunet tried to reach for a shirt to wipe off with and decided a pillowcase would do just as well.

Farfarello forced his feet under him and stood shakily. “Hold on.” A warm cloth was retrieved from the bathroom and wiped the older man down, carefully tending the bite mark. “Still want a shower?”

“Mm, bath please.” He wasn't entirely certain he could stand anyways. He didn't even have to ask to be carried, strong arms lifting under his legs and back; a bit of a juggling act in the bathroom, his carrier refusing to put him down and turning on the bath with his toes, making the telepath laugh.

A hot bath, cuddled in his lover's arms, did wonders for his back and sore muscles, and he drowsed happily against the thin chest. “You gotta put on some weight, Farf. Way too skinny, make me feel fat.”

Purring in his ear, vibrations through his back, and the brunet closed his eyes, leaning back to let his lover wash his chest and stomach. *Perfect. You are always perfect.* And if that wasn't an ego booster, he didn't know what was. Slow circles were rubbed on his skin, the cloth soft and a bit ticklish, soothing and telling him he was adored.

“Hey, Far? Want to tell me about tonight?” A grunt and more washing. *You promised.*

*You're such a spoiled brat.* He got a grin and a lap full of snuggling brunet. *Fine. I had to get a girl away from her father's competitor. He was holding her for ransom and using her as a sex slave at the same time. Her father, James, gave me a boost when I started setting myself up, sent a few jobs my way, that kind of thing. I have no idea why, I think he saw us at Takatori's and recognized me from there, but I don't know why he helped me. So, I went and got her back. She'd make a good assassin, strong stomach for it.*

*You? Think a girl would be a good killer?* If he remembered correctly, Farfarello had little to no respect for women period, never mind as assassins.

*I think lots of women would be great killers, some of the best assassins in history were women.* The word Schreint was nudged into his head. *They don't count, they were stupid, clumsy, and a bunch of damn pansies.* His voice rose into a falsetto. “Ooh, I got a scratch, Daddy, Daddy, kiss it better!”

Schuldig slid down his chest and nearly drowned laughing.

*****************

Morning was slow, an easy wandering up to conscious thought as the brunet rolled over, seeking the warm body that had lain down beside him. Cool sheets met questing fingers and he groaned, little pains shooting through his back as he tried to sit up. *Far?* In the living room, he noticed the hum of concentration his lover got when he was playing with his weapons.

*Just a second.* Soft padding of bare feet, a deliberate sound against the wood floors, and strong hands rubbed over the brunet's lower back, soothing and relaxing. *Hungry?*

“No. Come back to bed, it's early.” He snuffled in the pillow, wriggling a bit to move the pleasant hands further down.

Light laughter, such a wonderful sound from his serious partner, and the pale hands obliged, nudging the blanket down to massage his ass and thighs. “Hardly early, it's nearly ten. You're just lazy.”

Chuckles from the pillow covered head. *Guilty.* More laughter at the play of his name, awful though it was. *Come on, when did you become such a stickler for getting up on time. I distinctly remember dragging your ass out of bed at noon on numerous occasions* And that reminded him. *Hey, what happened to Nagi and Brad? Where did they take them, how did you get away?* The dark head started to lift up but was pushed back down gently, hand between his shoulders

A deep sigh and the blond leaned forward to brush a kiss to the nape of his partner's neck. “They left. Once you were gone, they just didn't untie me, kept the drugs high in my system, and took off. They traded us, Schu-Schu. Traded us for a position near the top.” Denial radiated from the tense body, shoulders shaking, short hair moving quickly against pale cloth. “Yes, I heard the pick up crew talking when they came to get me. Brad moved up to vice-president, second in command, and took Nagi with him. Esset was more than willing to deal with him, have two powerful talents back and eliminate two threats at the same time.”

*That's not true, Brad, Brad would protect us! He risked his life for us, traded his own body so he could have me for fuck's sake, he wouldn't just turn us over.* He fought, kicking even as he winced from the use of abused muscles, arms pinned by a paler hand. *And, and Nagi wouldn't, he's, he...* The older man choked, fighting the sense of betrayal even higher than when he'd been sold to Esset for the first time.

His struggles were hushed and the thin body wrapped around his, holding him tightly as he wriggled to escape. Memories opened up, forced at him when he refused to look, to see; they hammered at his mind, flashing brightly as they slammed into his shields, ripping through from years of practice. Endless days and nights, tied tightly, circulation in pale hands moving in and out of range, their movements growing slower, reflexes dying over months of inactivity, the silence, the darkness, the enduring sense of abandonment, Nagi's face appearing to slide a needle into a skinny arm, a few words of taunting, rage at the boy reflecting the hate the young brunet felt for his partners.

And Brad, leaning in the doorway, smirking as he informed Farfarello Schuldig had stopped calling, had disappeared from his post. Didn't care. One last dose and they were gone, the house left exactly as it had been as they walked away. By the time a crew had arrived, the blond had nearly worked his way free, the tiny knife he carried at his stomach bright as he slashed it across the unwary neck, underestimated in the belief he was drugged enough to be helpless. Twice more the blade slid through fragile skin, thick arcs of frothy blood decorating the dark room, the feeling of lethargy in long unused muscles sending the blond to ground, sliding out a top window to crawl across the roof and slip down between buildings.

Cool air rushing into lungs that struggled to breathe after being locked away for so long, clumsy fingers on the single blade, the heavy thud of steps behind him, eerie silence as his hunters used only psychic communications. Shields slammed into place, bits and pieces picked up from his absent partner utilized and incorporated into his primary defense; choice thoughts slid through, disguising him as another street dweller, someone who belonged and was of no consequence. His body was loosening, years of training not quite erased by a few months inactivity, and he slid along the walls, slinking just out of sight, camouflaged in the darkness of shadows and his mind.

When they finally left, short three staff and empty handed, he stalked them, listening to their banter, the damning words falling harshly in the still night. 'Damn Crawford anyway, he said he was too drugged to fight.' 'Oh, fuck it. He's a mess, as good as dead anyways. And he's talentless. Crazy as he is, how long do you think he'll make it?' 'Yeah, whatever. Wish we had talents like Crawford and his brat. Imagine, welcomed with open arms after just walking away, and all they had to do was turn over one little telepath and his pet.' 'No shit. I'd trade you in a second for a chance to be vice.' Coarse laughter and tussling, muted swearing as the remainder of the team cleared the house of anything to indicate they had been there.

There was where it cut off and Schuldig moaned, shaking under firm hands. His voice was raw, fighting the urge to scream and rail against the only body available. They lay quietly, the rustle of cloth and soft choking the only sounds, Farfarello patient as his telepath worked it out, calming eventually to lay, exhausted once more, face buried in his pillow. “Far?” Soft, unrecognizable if he hadn't been looking at him.

“Yes.”

“You're not going to leave, are you?” So afraid of being alone, pink cheeks turned to the thin chest, arms wrapped firmly around his partner. 'Why am I so scared? This is pathetic.' Even the thought didn't stop the feeling of desperation, the need to cling to his lover.

“No.” Warm, slightly chapped lips pressed to his forehead. “Never. You belong to me.” The blond recognized the fear for what it was; the sense of abandonment and the terror that his telepath would lose control, become someone other than himself. The brunet needed the attention of a partner, a lover, someone who saw him for himself and would always remind him of it.

Tension eased from the slender man and he nuzzled, pleased with the confession. *They, really did it, didn't they? Left us, turned us in.* Long white hair nodded. *Fuckers.* There was anger, but not as much as the blond had expected, no rage, only a hint of pain and betrayal. His hand smoothed the mussed brown hair down, tucking a stray piece behind a small ear, flicking it playfully. *Well fuck them. What do they know? We both made it, didn't we?*

And there was the spirit, that flush of conceit and arrogance that made the older man irresistible. *Yes, we did. And now, we don't have to do anything for anyone but ourselves.* A smile against his skin at that, small at first and growing to a full blown smirk. *We're free.*

*We're free.* Soft, full lips leaned up and pressed to thinner ones, a delicate hand trailing over the firm stomach. *Should we celebrate?* Low laughter sent them tumbling in a flurry of blankets, pillows and clothes.