The Perfidious One, amethyst_hunter (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} amethyst_hunter) wrote in ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} getbackers_yaoi,@ 2008-06-18 21:52:00 |
|
Fanfics galore!
Title: Hack and Slash
Author: Amethyst Hunter
Rating: PG (language)
Word count: 920
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The GBers aren't mine.
Notes: Inspired by my recent weekend brush with a computer virus/spyware. Let this be a lesson to y'all, folks: BACK UP YOUR DATA!!
Summary: Poor Akabane needs to defrag and destress when his computer gets hacked.
--
It would have been just another ordinary day in the lives of transporters and retrievers, except that this day the two sides were united due to the specifics of a joint mission. As a result, everyone was gathered – crammed, actually - in the crowded hotel room they were sharing, waiting for the call that would announce the beginning of their duties. Cheap clients were a royal pain in the gluteous maximus.
Each had, however, in his or her own way found a method of entertainment to pass the time. Ginji was watching cartoons on the television. Ban and Himiko were playing cards; Himiko was winning, a fact made patently obvious by Ban's loudly repeated swearing. Gouzou Maguruma was stretched out on one of the beds, reading a Stephen Hawking book on the theories of particle physics. As for Akabane, he was content to wander the wilderness of the internet on his laptop, searching for homespun remedies that dealt with the perfect removal of protein-based stains from fabrics.
Or he was content, until -
“What the hell's that noise?” Ban lifted his gaze from his dwindling handful of cards, scowling as the sound increased in volume. “Someone slam the door on the tail of a cat in heat?”
It took them a second or two before they realized that the thin, high-pitched and piercing squeal was coming from Akabane. He was sitting at the desk, back stiff as a board, and if his hair had stood on end nobody would have been surprised. He was staring at the flashing alert message that had frozen his laptop into a very expensive paperweight.
“This. Is. Not. Good,” Ginji whimpered from beneath the safety of a nearby bed, having taken cover at the first broadcasted Jackal alarm. He knew just enough about computers to understand that whatever had elicited wordless fury from Akabane meant big trouble and a fast-rising body count.
Maguruma laid aside his book and got up to see to his fellow transporter's emotional state. Carefully, so as not to garner any unwanted quills, he pulled a rigid Akabane away from the laptop and the desk and helped him to stand. “Easy, now. Take it easy,” he said in low, soothing tones, petting Akabane's shoulders the way one might to calm an anxious pet. “Nice and easy. Good boy, you're doing fine...”
“He had the same look right before he J-ed those government dumbbutts that hired us for the IL,” Ban muttered to no one in particular.
Akabane's blank gaze was locked on the laptop. His control might be admirable, but Himiko recognized the twitches of diamond rage in his tightly-clenched fingers. Indeed, she wasn't at all shocked to see eight deadly knives explode from his hands as Akabane hobbled towards the infected laptop and raised a slow, trembling fist.
“If you kill it, we can't fix it,” Maguruma pointed out.
Akabane whirled, pinning him with an icy stare.
“Can it be fixed?” Himiko whispered to Maguruma.
“Sure. What's the name of that computer whiz kid you guys are always talking about?”
“Makubex,” Ban managed to choke out, his eyes like everyone else's riveted on the murderous man in black.
“Yeah. All we have to do is drop the thing off at his place and he'll take care of it. I'm sure it's not a big deal,” Maguruma said, the latter half of his comment directed at Akabane. “Computer trouble happens to everybody sooner or later.”
Akabane's eyes took on daggers.
“Does anyone have Makubex's number?” Himiko said quickly, moving to the doctor's side and shoving an opened bottle of lavender-scented perfume under his nose.
“I do!” A phone shot out from underneath one of the beds – coincidentally, the same one where Ginji happened to be hiding.
“Coward,” Ban grumbled as he scooped up the device and scrolled through the contacts book, displaying a yellow streak of his own when a white-gloved hand lightly tapped his shoulder and held out its palm in silent demand. Ban shoved the phone into Akabane's grasp and took several large steps backwards.
Everyone waited with held breaths as Akabane – who seemed to have regained his composure somewhat thanks to Himiko's relaxation scent – quietly described the problem to Makubex and waited for an answer. When he was satisfied that he would receive the results he desired, Akabane passed the phone back to Ban without another word.
“There goes our damned commission,” Himiko groaned to a nodding Maguruma, both of them knowing only too well what kind of therapy their cohort would engage in to work off his frustration.
“Not necessarily.” Ban winked at her and spoke into the phone. “Hey, computer brat. Any chance you could, say, track down the creator of this malware garbage while you're at it?”
He held the phone up to Akabane's ear so the doctor could hear the response. Body temperatures took an instant nosedive at the sight of a pair of purple eyes narrowing to razor slits and a fanged smile splitting apart Akabane's lips, as lethal promise purred from his throat.
“You know, despite what he does, I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard,” Maguruma remarked. “Some of those codes are nasty buggers.”
A tuft of blond poked its fuzzy strands out from the bedskirt. “Yeah, Akabane-san's taking this awfully well for a homicidal maniac,” Ginji said.
Everyone stared at him. Maguruma snorted. “I wasn't talking about Jackal.”
“One-hundred percent satisfaction rate, baby,” Ban cackled. “We Get Backers do aim to please!”
--
Title: Practice Makes Perfect
Author: Amethyst Hunter
Rating: G
Word count: 345
Warnings/Spoilers: None.
Notes: Based on aspringkink prompt. Prompt – “camaraderie”/“let’s be bad guys”
- Two fics for the price of one prompt, because two transporters are better than one. XD
Disclaimer: GB and its loverly transporters sadly aren’t mine.
Summary: Being bad has its perks, especially for jilted transporters.
--
“You,” Akabane said calmly as he addressed the terrified young man bound spread-eagled and clad in only that rope and a pair of boxer shorts, “will apologize for your dereliction. Or you shall suffer the consequences.”
“I said I was sorry, mister! It's just a hat, for Chrissakes!” howled the young man from the playground equipment that he was strapped to.
“Not to me,” Akabane insisted quietly. He laid a hand upon his female companion's shoulder. “To Himiko-san.”
“I didn't do nothing!” The boy, who had been caught with another girl at a movie theater on the same night as he and Himiko were supposed to have met, wriggled like a helpless worm on a hook. “I told her I had other plans!”
“Plans that included breaking our date and then cheating on me?” Himiko fumed, wishing she'd torched more than just his clothes with her flame perfume. “You two-timing dirty little scum-sucking piece of - “
Akabane coughed delicately. “If I may, Himiko-san, I suggest expressing your hostilities in a more constructive and satisfying method.”
She glanced at him as she kicked the merry-go-round into motion. “How?”
“Reconstruction therapy,” Akabane announced crisply. “The client learns through a series of experiments to disengage from destructive socialization patterns and enact proper behavioral sequences in response to particular interactive scenarios.”
“What, you a friggin' doctor or something?” chattered the boy through clenched teeth as he was spun around once more.
Akabane smiled at Himiko as he fanned out his scalpels. “Flaming arrow?”
“Hey man, any chick that stalks guys is the one who needs to practice some therapy!”
Himiko's eyes narrowed as she plucked forth her flame perfume. “Flaming arrow.” She paused. “We should do it blindfolded. More challenging. Fun.”
“I have a handkerchief,” Akabane purred.
“Good.” Himiko finished igniting the tips of his knives and lifted one, aiming it at the blubbering boy on the spinning wheel. “Practice does make perfect!”
--
Title: Shark Bait
Author: Amethyst Hunter
Rating: G
Word count: 788
Warnings/Spoilers: Only if you haven't seen the anime's infamous High School Girl Vs. Retrievers episode.
Notes: Based on a springkink prompt. Prompt – “camaraderie”/“let’s be bad guys”
Disclaimer: GB and its loverly transporters sadly aren’t mine.
Summary: Revenge is a dish best served poisoned. With a side of scalpel, of course.
--
What those two saw in each other, Himiko would never guess, although she had her own theories as to one of them. When a squealing Riko Tachibana had run up to her partner and flung her arms around him professing undying adoration, Himiko had recognized the starry glint of clueless fanaticism even from afar.
She groaned again. If she'd only gone inside the office with Akabane to make the delivery instead of waiting outside, they might not be in this predicament. Splashing victims with poison perfume in full public view not only reflected poorly on her professionalism, it was a fast ticket to police trouble.
Akabane never wavered in his calm, never displayed any sign of agitation, as Riko continued to chatter at him rapid-fire. Every time when it appeared he could safely excuse himself without appearing rude, the girl would launch into another spiel about some insignificant sphere of her existence. And Akabane, stickler for manners that he was, just stood there and took it, managing to interject a few murmurs of polite acknowledgment from time to time.
Spitefully, Himiko felt that it served him right to have his ears talked off. It was Ban's fault for introducing them to the little twit in the first place, but it was Akabane's fault for encouraging her to stalk dangerous transporters like some crazed groupie. He'd foolishly given her his contact information when she'd asked, after all.
Still, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the good doctor as well. He had to be bored out of his skull, forced to listen to all the minute-by-minute details of a day in the life of your average high school teenager, and one rather shallow at that. Himiko still hadn't forgiven Riko's comments about her personal life – or rather, lack thereof.
Inspiration conspired with impatience, and an idea came to her mind. She knew exactly how to get back Akabane and stick it to her heckler at the same time. Smiling deviously, Himiko strode firmly towards the wayward Jackal and his fangirlish captor.
“ - and when I graduate my parents are going to throw me the biggest party EVER, it's going to be so cool, with flowers and presents and a DJ and a swimming pool! You have to come, Akabane-san!”
“Mmm. I'm sure that will be nice...”
“THERE you are, Kuroudo darling!”
Two pairs of startled eyes, one livid, the other bewildered, watched as Himiko walked right up to Akabane and pulled him down for a very demonstrative kiss. Ignoring Riko's furious sputters, Himiko wrapped her arms around Akabane and smiled at him. “Honey, remember the appointment at the jeweler's for the ring sizings? We'll still make it on time if we leave now.”
Akabane blinked. He did have beautiful eyes when he was surprised.
Himiko pretended to just now notice Riko's presence. “Oh, I'm sorry,” she said with false sweetness. “I haven't introduced myself, have I?”
Akabane coughed awkwardly. “Riko-san, this is my - “
“I know her!” Riko hissed like a scalded cat. “She's that awful tomboy with the horrible motorcycle! She almost KILLED me!”
“I'm sure she had a very good reason for it,” Akabane said kindly. “Lady Poison does not grant just anyone the honor of death at her hands, you know.”
Himiko pushed down the impulse to drown this brat in corrosion perfume and widened her smile to fanged proportions. “So kind of you to keep my fiancee' entertained briefly. He does so enjoy humoring children, you see.”
Although Riko's face didn't quite reach the same tint as the blood from one of Doctor Jackal's Js, the bright red shade of her skin was nonetheless a most satisfying sight. “You – you – you - “
Himiko quickly cast a meaningful look at the still slightly confused Akabane. “Kuroudo, love, shall we go?” Without waiting for an answer, she squeezed his hand in a bone-cracking grip and pulled him away before Riko could burst their eardrums with her outraged screeching.
Akabane hurried to keep up with her, his free hand clutching his hat. “Himiko-san – what on earth was that all about?”
“I just saved you from a fate worse than death. You can thank me later.”
“So you did. I appreciate your intervention, in that case,” a relieved Akabane mused. He hesitated, and then asked, “Did you really attempt to kill Riko-san like she said?”
“I wish,” Himiko muttered.
Akabane chuckled. “I suppose this means our engagement is off now.”
“That depends,” Himiko told him archly. “I heard Kyouji Kagami is in town for our next assignment. You know what they say about diamonds and a girl's best friend..!”
“The couple that bleeds together, stays together,” her happy homicidal partner agreed.
--
Title: Shadowboxing
Author: Amethyst Hunter
Fandom/pairing: Get Backers, Akabane/Kagami
Word count: 2499
Rating: PG (minor swearing/violence)
Warnings/Spoilers: Just itty-bitty teeny-tiny canon mentions.
Notes: Based on a prompt from the springkink LJ community. Prompt: “mirrors and reflections”/“there is no escape from my eyes here”
Disclaimer: GB isn’t mine.
Summary: Kagami gets more than he bargained for when he takes on Akabane in a fight.
--
It was his own fault, he would later reflect when he had the time. He should have known better; should have remembered that the Jackal was at least as cunning as himself. He’d been so caught up in the thrill of the moment that he’d lost sight of his original intentions, and had dared much more than he normally did. Stalking serious prey required serious attention, and so Kyouji Kagami could not entirely blame the other man for taking his bait and using his own hook to land the Observer right where he wanted him.
All this, of course, was little comfort at present. And blood was hell to get out of white fabric.
Kagami carefully edged backwards, towards the hidden exit to the room, keeping his eye squarely on the advancing Akabane. Both men were smiling, but one’s was more a front for bravery while the other’s reeked of feral lust.
“I hope you aren’t thinking of running away on me again.” Akabane’s voice was quite at odds with his violent persona: it was soft, gentle, soothing even, and couched in nothing less than complete politeness. One of Kagami’s wishes was to see if the good doctor could ever be made to raise his voice in emotion. Assuming he even had such things as emotions, of course.
“I’m sorry to say that’s exactly what’s on my mind,” Kagami replied, as cool and calm as his opponent. “My job is strictly to observe, not to engage, and I’m afraid I’ve done a bit of rule-bending in your case.”
Jackal’s chuckle rippled in coquettish amusement. “I am honoured. But what are rules for if not meant to be broken? Where is the fun in playing it safe all the time? Don’t you find that boring after a while?”
Truthfully, Kagami would have agreed with Akabane on that one. Having to hold back could be more exhaustion than it felt like it was worth sometimes. But he had his priorities. “That depends on what one finds most stimulating.” The panel, it had to be close – he didn’t dare turn his head to look. “For you, it is the fight; for me, it is the view.”
Akabane paused, clicking the knives in his hand together almost thoughtfully. “Mm. This is true,” he conceded, and then his smile edged into a devious Cheshire that made the hair on the back of Kagami’s neck stand up in an unpleasant way. “Let’s do something about that right now, shall we?”
He lifted a hand to throw his knives; Kagami pulled out some glass to retaliate as he sprinted to evade the attack. Too late he realized that Jackal wasn’t aiming at him – the scalpels were flying into the lights above. A cracking and tinkling of glass later, and the whole room winked out into total blackness.
Shit.
This was not good.
From somewhere – not the same place, he was certain – Kagami heard a low chuckle. “Much better,” was the doctor’s pronouncement. “You cannot see me. I cannot see you. Makes for a rather interesting match, don’t you think?”
Kagami was silent. He wasn’t about to give himself away by speaking. He didn’t like the dark, though he sometimes served in it. Very few people were aware of this weakness, and he’d commanded those select never to mention it upon pain of death. He was a Child of the Light, born to reflect true power.
Akabane spoke again, from a different place. “I was most disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm during our last meeting, Kagami-kun. Most disappointed indeed.”
Too bad, Kagami wanted to say. He held his breath, straining to pick up some sign of the other man’s movement that would betray his whereabouts.
“This time – “ damn it, he couldn’t even hear the Jackal’s footsteps, so stealthy was the doctor – “I will not permit that insolence to ruin what could be such a beautiful encounter. It’s only polite to humor a guest who has come calling, no?”
Kagami refrained from pointing out that Akabane was hardly his guest, though he supposed to the other’s curious mentality, it would seem so – he did, after all, reside in the topmost towers of Mugenjou and the transporter was only here because of a mission. Kagami had caught wind of his presence and had gone to investigate; a chance meeting resulted in the current game of cat-and-cat. The question was, which one would claim turf supremacy in the end?
Another low chuckle, this time disturbingly close. “Are you having a problem, Kagami-kun? Your mirrors aren’t helping you very much, are they? You need light to cast your spells. I’m afraid you’re in my element now. I know the darkness as my second skin. There is no escape from my eyes, not here.”
Kagami ground his teeth in silence. He had indeed underestimated his prey. He needed to remove himself from this equation fast, before the good doctor did it for him with considerably more mess. He still had diamond dust, and for a split-second he debated whether to use it as a getaway strategy. The dust wouldn’t stop Akabane but it would slow him down, which would give Kagami just enough time to locate the secret panel and escape through the concealed exit.
Carefully, quietly, he reached into his sleeve and grasped a handful of grains, letting them stream from his palm out into the air. The shards quickly multiplied and thickened, saturating the room in their deadly crystalline poison.
“Ahh, there you are,” purred the Jackal.
Even as Akabane was moving so was Kagami, bolting for the exit that he remembered was secreted in the walls nearby. His hands smacked solid surface and he fumbled, trying to recall where exactly the switch was – in the darkness, it was impossible to tell up from down – and at last his fingers scratched over the correct sequence.
The door opened, but by then it was too late. Kagami froze as he felt the razor kiss of a scalpel nicking the side of his neck in warning.
“Why hello there,” the sinister chuckle tickled his ear. “Fancy meeting you, Kagami-kun.”
This wasn’t right. The diamond dust should have at least sent Akabane into a fit of hacking and coughing. Even if the man was somehow able to negate its effects in short time, the dust should have bought Kagami the time he needed.
“It might interest you to know,” Akabane murmured, “that my colleague Lady Poison has been ever so helpful in teaching me how to employ the breathing techniques she uses to avoid your sparkle dust.”
Kagami held back a sigh. He should have known, truly. “How thoughtful of her,” he managed to say without faltering.
“Yes, wasn’t it?” Akabane agreed, the smile ripe in his tone. “No doubt you are wondering how I was able to track you so well, even in this gloom. It’s quite simple, really.”
“Do share,” Kagami drawled. He wondered if he could surprise the doctor with a flash of glass in the face – then decided against it. The scalpel was too close for comfort, and another one was even now coming around to rest against the front of his throat. He’d never get the mirror formed before Jackal sliced his head clean off.
“With pleasure.” Akabane slipped an arm around Kagami’s waist and moved in closer, the heat of his breath caressing Kagami’s cheek. “I can smell your blood, you see.”
To prove it, one of the knives – the one that had stopped Kagami’s flight – dragged its fang in a shallow hiss across the skin. Kagami had to fight the urge to flinch at the tiny burn, but when Akabane bent his head and slowly licked the thin streak of blood welling to the surface, he couldn’t help himself.
“Funny, I hadn’t figured you for one of those,” he said, hoping it sounded more nonchalant than he felt.
Akabane sniffed. “Vampirism is a trite and incorrect explanation for my artistry. I do not require blood to survive. The pleasure I find in bloodletting comes from hard-won experience, the skill necessary for a successful hunt. Nothing compares to the throb of pressure, the scent of exhilaration in cold terror.”
He put his lips to Kagami’s ear, just above the cuff of his earring, and bit the flesh. “I need no mirrors or diamonds to guide my path. Mine is the instinct of true death – that which seeks out life.”
This would, Kagami decided, be far more enjoyable if the threat of instant death wasn't present. For all his coldness, Akabane possessed a peculiar sensuality that, if tapped correctly, was liable to set both him and his victim aflame.
Then again, he thought with wry amusement, perhaps it wasn't so much anything on the doctor's part as it was his own emotions running riot with him. Fear was a double-edged aphrodisiac.
He wondered if Doctor Jackal could be made to feel fear. Now there was an interesting experiment. Assuming one lived long enough to see the results, of course.
Kagami always had had a secret passion for living dangerously.
“I should like to have a closer look at one of those blades of yours, if you wouldn't mind,” he said smoothly. “I do admire fine craftsmanship, you see, and it would certainly be a comfort to know that I may be dispatched by a true professional.”
Flattery could get one almost anywhere, and Akabane was no exception. With a pleased purr he acquiesced to the request. “You may examine it but do not touch the edge, Kagami-kun. It is very sharp,” he warned, withdrawing the knife that had been at Kagami's throat – the other had vanished to whereabouts unknown when the man had cut him – and laying the flat side of it against the Observer's fingers...though he did not release it entirely.
Kagami had no doubt that Akabane could still deal a fatal wound, close as he was, even though he now no longer faced the threat of an impromptu tracheotomy. Surprise was everything here, so he remained in place, resting his hand carefully over a gloved one in order to touch the proffered scalpel. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell what exactly the thing looked like, though the blade glowed an electric blue that gave him just enough light for his purposes.
“A superb rendition indeed,” Kagami remarked, as though he were critiquing a portrait. “Very elegant. Very efficient. You really form them from your own bloodstream?”
“Oh yes,” Akabane replied, sounding delighted by Kagami's compliments. “Once an element is introduced into my blood, I may form as many weapons from it as I wish. That's how I was able to employ your own diamond dust against you, you see.”
“Ahh,” was Kagami's languid answer. “Yes, I admit, that was quite a surprise for me. I must wonder, however, what happens if you receive too much of that element at a time.”
“Hmm.” The frown in the other man's voice was subtle confusion. “I cannot say that I recall such a thing ever having happened to me before. I suppose it's one of the unknown variables that makes my existence unique, yes?”
“Quite likely,” Kagami agreed. “Why don't we find out?”
Jackal stiffened, a low hiss streaming past the Observer's ear that swiftly turned into a grunt of pain when the piece of glass shard found its way into his thigh. He stabbed at his attacker and growled when the body dissolved into broken mirrors – irritation that suddenly became shock when he felt the real Kagami pouring – flooding – diamond dust into his femoral artery.
Akabane's choked cry was high and thin, like the wail of a distressed cat, and in the gloom of the scalpels' dim illumination Kagami caught a glimpse of what almost looked like a keen betrayal in the doctor's eyes as the man crumpled to the floor. Odd, that one who had been designated the requisite traitor of the game should feel such notions. Although it wasn't entirely off base to suggest that there was still some honor among thieves of his ilk.
The transporter was squirming like a half-crushed bug on the floor, coughing, gagging, vomiting up what looked to be like bloodied clumps of misshapen weapons. Kagami knew he should go, should retreat while the other was momentarily incapacitated, but he found the sight weirdly mesmerizing. A shame he wouldn't be able to use this injection technique a second time if they met again in the future, though. Such was the pesky drawback to learning from one's mistakes.
Having garnered enough information for his satisfaction, Kagami turned to exit through the escape door with a nod to the injured man. “I do appreciate your generous cooperation in my studies,” he chuckled as he idly stroked his earring. “Though I apologize for the damage to your garments. Good tailoring is so difficult to find these days.” He didn't think the wound he'd dealt Akabane was lethal, but the transporter would probably find the next several hours quite uncomfortable, what with as much dust as Kagami had pumped him full of. It was something worth keeping an eye on, at any rate.
Wisely, he did not turn his back completely on that wounded animal when he made his exit, and it was none too soon because Akabane had evidently expelled enough of the noxious glass to recover for a sufficient attack. He lunged at Kagami with a fistful of knives; only by good timing and good fortune did Kagami evade the strike that would have amputated both his legs above the knees. He slipped through the passage and shut the door smartly in Jackal's face.
With the doctor left to ponder his illusions in total darkness – Kagami was unconcerned that he might try to follow; that door was specially sealed and its location constantly shifted to prevent outsiders' discovery – all that remained was for Kagami to report back to headquarters on his gatherings. He smiled congratulations at himself for not only having cheated death but also gaining some valuable observations as well.
He tripped the main switch in the hall and nascent overhead lighting briefly stung his eyes before the level adjusted to a comfortable view. Still smiling, humming a contented tune under his breath, Kagami started to stroll along the corridor and gasped when his knees gave out from under him.
Pain lashed a bitter chord through his legs. He rolled, cursing, and put a hand to one of the backs of his knees. It came away slick with red film. He gingerly explored the edges of the wound with his fingertips, tracing the unmistakable signature he'd come to recognize. Well. This was going to be fun for the Trust's medical team to fix. He thanked his lucky stars that they would be able to fix it – Kagami's brief recklessness notwithstanding, a man of Doctor Jackal's expertise might have gotten in the last word after all.
Interesting, that.
--
Title: Hack and Slash
Author: Amethyst Hunter
Rating: PG (language)
Word count: 920
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: The GBers aren't mine.
Notes: Inspired by my recent weekend brush with a computer virus/spyware. Let this be a lesson to y'all, folks: BACK UP YOUR DATA!!
Summary: Poor Akabane needs to defrag and destress when his computer gets hacked.
--
It would have been just another ordinary day in the lives of transporters and retrievers, except that this day the two sides were united due to the specifics of a joint mission. As a result, everyone was gathered – crammed, actually - in the crowded hotel room they were sharing, waiting for the call that would announce the beginning of their duties. Cheap clients were a royal pain in the gluteous maximus.
Each had, however, in his or her own way found a method of entertainment to pass the time. Ginji was watching cartoons on the television. Ban and Himiko were playing cards; Himiko was winning, a fact made patently obvious by Ban's loudly repeated swearing. Gouzou Maguruma was stretched out on one of the beds, reading a Stephen Hawking book on the theories of particle physics. As for Akabane, he was content to wander the wilderness of the internet on his laptop, searching for homespun remedies that dealt with the perfect removal of protein-based stains from fabrics.
Or he was content, until -
“What the hell's that noise?” Ban lifted his gaze from his dwindling handful of cards, scowling as the sound increased in volume. “Someone slam the door on the tail of a cat in heat?”
It took them a second or two before they realized that the thin, high-pitched and piercing squeal was coming from Akabane. He was sitting at the desk, back stiff as a board, and if his hair had stood on end nobody would have been surprised. He was staring at the flashing alert message that had frozen his laptop into a very expensive paperweight.
“This. Is. Not. Good,” Ginji whimpered from beneath the safety of a nearby bed, having taken cover at the first broadcasted Jackal alarm. He knew just enough about computers to understand that whatever had elicited wordless fury from Akabane meant big trouble and a fast-rising body count.
Maguruma laid aside his book and got up to see to his fellow transporter's emotional state. Carefully, so as not to garner any unwanted quills, he pulled a rigid Akabane away from the laptop and the desk and helped him to stand. “Easy, now. Take it easy,” he said in low, soothing tones, petting Akabane's shoulders the way one might to calm an anxious pet. “Nice and easy. Good boy, you're doing fine...”
“He had the same look right before he J-ed those government dumbbutts that hired us for the IL,” Ban muttered to no one in particular.
Akabane's blank gaze was locked on the laptop. His control might be admirable, but Himiko recognized the twitches of diamond rage in his tightly-clenched fingers. Indeed, she wasn't at all shocked to see eight deadly knives explode from his hands as Akabane hobbled towards the infected laptop and raised a slow, trembling fist.
“If you kill it, we can't fix it,” Maguruma pointed out.
Akabane whirled, pinning him with an icy stare.
“Can it be fixed?” Himiko whispered to Maguruma.
“Sure. What's the name of that computer whiz kid you guys are always talking about?”
“Makubex,” Ban managed to choke out, his eyes like everyone else's riveted on the murderous man in black.
“Yeah. All we have to do is drop the thing off at his place and he'll take care of it. I'm sure it's not a big deal,” Maguruma said, the latter half of his comment directed at Akabane. “Computer trouble happens to everybody sooner or later.”
Akabane's eyes took on daggers.
“Does anyone have Makubex's number?” Himiko said quickly, moving to the doctor's side and shoving an opened bottle of lavender-scented perfume under his nose.
“I do!” A phone shot out from underneath one of the beds – coincidentally, the same one where Ginji happened to be hiding.
“Coward,” Ban grumbled as he scooped up the device and scrolled through the contacts book, displaying a yellow streak of his own when a white-gloved hand lightly tapped his shoulder and held out its palm in silent demand. Ban shoved the phone into Akabane's grasp and took several large steps backwards.
Everyone waited with held breaths as Akabane – who seemed to have regained his composure somewhat thanks to Himiko's relaxation scent – quietly described the problem to Makubex and waited for an answer. When he was satisfied that he would receive the results he desired, Akabane passed the phone back to Ban without another word.
“There goes our damned commission,” Himiko groaned to a nodding Maguruma, both of them knowing only too well what kind of therapy their cohort would engage in to work off his frustration.
“Not necessarily.” Ban winked at her and spoke into the phone. “Hey, computer brat. Any chance you could, say, track down the creator of this malware garbage while you're at it?”
He held the phone up to Akabane's ear so the doctor could hear the response. Body temperatures took an instant nosedive at the sight of a pair of purple eyes narrowing to razor slits and a fanged smile splitting apart Akabane's lips, as lethal promise purred from his throat.
“You know, despite what he does, I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard,” Maguruma remarked. “Some of those codes are nasty buggers.”
A tuft of blond poked its fuzzy strands out from the bedskirt. “Yeah, Akabane-san's taking this awfully well for a homicidal maniac,” Ginji said.
Everyone stared at him. Maguruma snorted. “I wasn't talking about Jackal.”
“One-hundred percent satisfaction rate, baby,” Ban cackled. “We Get Backers do aim to please!”
--
Title: Practice Makes Perfect
Author: Amethyst Hunter
Rating: G
Word count: 345
Warnings/Spoilers: None.
Notes: Based on a
springkink prompt. Prompt – “camaraderie”/“let’s be bad guys”- Two fics for the price of one prompt, because two transporters are better than one. XD
Disclaimer: GB and its loverly transporters sadly aren’t mine.
Summary: Being bad has its perks, especially for jilted transporters.
--
“You,” Akabane said calmly as he addressed the terrified young man bound spread-eagled and clad in only that rope and a pair of boxer shorts, “will apologize for your dereliction. Or you shall suffer the consequences.”
“I said I was sorry, mister! It's just a hat, for Chrissakes!” howled the young man from the playground equipment that he was strapped to.
“Not to me,” Akabane insisted quietly. He laid a hand upon his female companion's shoulder. “To Himiko-san.”
“I didn't do nothing!” The boy, who had been caught with another girl at a movie theater on the same night as he and Himiko were supposed to have met, wriggled like a helpless worm on a hook. “I told her I had other plans!”
“Plans that included breaking our date and then cheating on me?” Himiko fumed, wishing she'd torched more than just his clothes with her flame perfume. “You two-timing dirty little scum-sucking piece of - “
Akabane coughed delicately. “If I may, Himiko-san, I suggest expressing your hostilities in a more constructive and satisfying method.”
She glanced at him as she kicked the merry-go-round into motion. “How?”
“Reconstruction therapy,” Akabane announced crisply. “The client learns through a series of experiments to disengage from destructive socialization patterns and enact proper behavioral sequences in response to particular interactive scenarios.”
“What, you a friggin' doctor or something?” chattered the boy through clenched teeth as he was spun around once more.
Akabane smiled at Himiko as he fanned out his scalpels. “Flaming arrow?”
“Hey man, any chick that stalks guys is the one who needs to practice some therapy!”
Himiko's eyes narrowed as she plucked forth her flame perfume. “Flaming arrow.” She paused. “We should do it blindfolded. More challenging. Fun.”
“I have a handkerchief,” Akabane purred.
“Good.” Himiko finished igniting the tips of his knives and lifted one, aiming it at the blubbering boy on the spinning wheel. “Practice does make perfect!”
--
Title: Shark Bait
Author: Amethyst Hunter
Rating: G
Word count: 788
Warnings/Spoilers: Only if you haven't seen the anime's infamous High School Girl Vs. Retrievers episode.
Notes: Based on a springkink prompt. Prompt – “camaraderie”/“let’s be bad guys”
Disclaimer: GB and its loverly transporters sadly aren’t mine.
Summary: Revenge is a dish best served poisoned. With a side of scalpel, of course.
--
What those two saw in each other, Himiko would never guess, although she had her own theories as to one of them. When a squealing Riko Tachibana had run up to her partner and flung her arms around him professing undying adoration, Himiko had recognized the starry glint of clueless fanaticism even from afar.
She groaned again. If she'd only gone inside the office with Akabane to make the delivery instead of waiting outside, they might not be in this predicament. Splashing victims with poison perfume in full public view not only reflected poorly on her professionalism, it was a fast ticket to police trouble.
Akabane never wavered in his calm, never displayed any sign of agitation, as Riko continued to chatter at him rapid-fire. Every time when it appeared he could safely excuse himself without appearing rude, the girl would launch into another spiel about some insignificant sphere of her existence. And Akabane, stickler for manners that he was, just stood there and took it, managing to interject a few murmurs of polite acknowledgment from time to time.
Spitefully, Himiko felt that it served him right to have his ears talked off. It was Ban's fault for introducing them to the little twit in the first place, but it was Akabane's fault for encouraging her to stalk dangerous transporters like some crazed groupie. He'd foolishly given her his contact information when she'd asked, after all.
Still, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the good doctor as well. He had to be bored out of his skull, forced to listen to all the minute-by-minute details of a day in the life of your average high school teenager, and one rather shallow at that. Himiko still hadn't forgiven Riko's comments about her personal life – or rather, lack thereof.
Inspiration conspired with impatience, and an idea came to her mind. She knew exactly how to get back Akabane and stick it to her heckler at the same time. Smiling deviously, Himiko strode firmly towards the wayward Jackal and his fangirlish captor.
“ - and when I graduate my parents are going to throw me the biggest party EVER, it's going to be so cool, with flowers and presents and a DJ and a swimming pool! You have to come, Akabane-san!”
“Mmm. I'm sure that will be nice...”
“THERE you are, Kuroudo darling!”
Two pairs of startled eyes, one livid, the other bewildered, watched as Himiko walked right up to Akabane and pulled him down for a very demonstrative kiss. Ignoring Riko's furious sputters, Himiko wrapped her arms around Akabane and smiled at him. “Honey, remember the appointment at the jeweler's for the ring sizings? We'll still make it on time if we leave now.”
Akabane blinked. He did have beautiful eyes when he was surprised.
Himiko pretended to just now notice Riko's presence. “Oh, I'm sorry,” she said with false sweetness. “I haven't introduced myself, have I?”
Akabane coughed awkwardly. “Riko-san, this is my - “
“I know her!” Riko hissed like a scalded cat. “She's that awful tomboy with the horrible motorcycle! She almost KILLED me!”
“I'm sure she had a very good reason for it,” Akabane said kindly. “Lady Poison does not grant just anyone the honor of death at her hands, you know.”
Himiko pushed down the impulse to drown this brat in corrosion perfume and widened her smile to fanged proportions. “So kind of you to keep my fiancee' entertained briefly. He does so enjoy humoring children, you see.”
Although Riko's face didn't quite reach the same tint as the blood from one of Doctor Jackal's Js, the bright red shade of her skin was nonetheless a most satisfying sight. “You – you – you - “
Himiko quickly cast a meaningful look at the still slightly confused Akabane. “Kuroudo, love, shall we go?” Without waiting for an answer, she squeezed his hand in a bone-cracking grip and pulled him away before Riko could burst their eardrums with her outraged screeching.
Akabane hurried to keep up with her, his free hand clutching his hat. “Himiko-san – what on earth was that all about?”
“I just saved you from a fate worse than death. You can thank me later.”
“So you did. I appreciate your intervention, in that case,” a relieved Akabane mused. He hesitated, and then asked, “Did you really attempt to kill Riko-san like she said?”
“I wish,” Himiko muttered.
Akabane chuckled. “I suppose this means our engagement is off now.”
“That depends,” Himiko told him archly. “I heard Kyouji Kagami is in town for our next assignment. You know what they say about diamonds and a girl's best friend..!”
“The couple that bleeds together, stays together,” her happy homicidal partner agreed.
--
Title: Shadowboxing
Author: Amethyst Hunter
Fandom/pairing: Get Backers, Akabane/Kagami
Word count: 2499
Rating: PG (minor swearing/violence)
Warnings/Spoilers: Just itty-bitty teeny-tiny canon mentions.
Notes: Based on a prompt from the springkink LJ community. Prompt: “mirrors and reflections”/“there is no escape from my eyes here”
Disclaimer: GB isn’t mine.
Summary: Kagami gets more than he bargained for when he takes on Akabane in a fight.
--
It was his own fault, he would later reflect when he had the time. He should have known better; should have remembered that the Jackal was at least as cunning as himself. He’d been so caught up in the thrill of the moment that he’d lost sight of his original intentions, and had dared much more than he normally did. Stalking serious prey required serious attention, and so Kyouji Kagami could not entirely blame the other man for taking his bait and using his own hook to land the Observer right where he wanted him.
All this, of course, was little comfort at present. And blood was hell to get out of white fabric.
Kagami carefully edged backwards, towards the hidden exit to the room, keeping his eye squarely on the advancing Akabane. Both men were smiling, but one’s was more a front for bravery while the other’s reeked of feral lust.
“I hope you aren’t thinking of running away on me again.” Akabane’s voice was quite at odds with his violent persona: it was soft, gentle, soothing even, and couched in nothing less than complete politeness. One of Kagami’s wishes was to see if the good doctor could ever be made to raise his voice in emotion. Assuming he even had such things as emotions, of course.
“I’m sorry to say that’s exactly what’s on my mind,” Kagami replied, as cool and calm as his opponent. “My job is strictly to observe, not to engage, and I’m afraid I’ve done a bit of rule-bending in your case.”
Jackal’s chuckle rippled in coquettish amusement. “I am honoured. But what are rules for if not meant to be broken? Where is the fun in playing it safe all the time? Don’t you find that boring after a while?”
Truthfully, Kagami would have agreed with Akabane on that one. Having to hold back could be more exhaustion than it felt like it was worth sometimes. But he had his priorities. “That depends on what one finds most stimulating.” The panel, it had to be close – he didn’t dare turn his head to look. “For you, it is the fight; for me, it is the view.”
Akabane paused, clicking the knives in his hand together almost thoughtfully. “Mm. This is true,” he conceded, and then his smile edged into a devious Cheshire that made the hair on the back of Kagami’s neck stand up in an unpleasant way. “Let’s do something about that right now, shall we?”
He lifted a hand to throw his knives; Kagami pulled out some glass to retaliate as he sprinted to evade the attack. Too late he realized that Jackal wasn’t aiming at him – the scalpels were flying into the lights above. A cracking and tinkling of glass later, and the whole room winked out into total blackness.
Shit.
This was not good.
From somewhere – not the same place, he was certain – Kagami heard a low chuckle. “Much better,” was the doctor’s pronouncement. “You cannot see me. I cannot see you. Makes for a rather interesting match, don’t you think?”
Kagami was silent. He wasn’t about to give himself away by speaking. He didn’t like the dark, though he sometimes served in it. Very few people were aware of this weakness, and he’d commanded those select never to mention it upon pain of death. He was a Child of the Light, born to reflect true power.
Akabane spoke again, from a different place. “I was most disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm during our last meeting, Kagami-kun. Most disappointed indeed.”
Too bad, Kagami wanted to say. He held his breath, straining to pick up some sign of the other man’s movement that would betray his whereabouts.
“This time – “ damn it, he couldn’t even hear the Jackal’s footsteps, so stealthy was the doctor – “I will not permit that insolence to ruin what could be such a beautiful encounter. It’s only polite to humor a guest who has come calling, no?”
Kagami refrained from pointing out that Akabane was hardly his guest, though he supposed to the other’s curious mentality, it would seem so – he did, after all, reside in the topmost towers of Mugenjou and the transporter was only here because of a mission. Kagami had caught wind of his presence and had gone to investigate; a chance meeting resulted in the current game of cat-and-cat. The question was, which one would claim turf supremacy in the end?
Another low chuckle, this time disturbingly close. “Are you having a problem, Kagami-kun? Your mirrors aren’t helping you very much, are they? You need light to cast your spells. I’m afraid you’re in my element now. I know the darkness as my second skin. There is no escape from my eyes, not here.”
Kagami ground his teeth in silence. He had indeed underestimated his prey. He needed to remove himself from this equation fast, before the good doctor did it for him with considerably more mess. He still had diamond dust, and for a split-second he debated whether to use it as a getaway strategy. The dust wouldn’t stop Akabane but it would slow him down, which would give Kagami just enough time to locate the secret panel and escape through the concealed exit.
Carefully, quietly, he reached into his sleeve and grasped a handful of grains, letting them stream from his palm out into the air. The shards quickly multiplied and thickened, saturating the room in their deadly crystalline poison.
“Ahh, there you are,” purred the Jackal.
Even as Akabane was moving so was Kagami, bolting for the exit that he remembered was secreted in the walls nearby. His hands smacked solid surface and he fumbled, trying to recall where exactly the switch was – in the darkness, it was impossible to tell up from down – and at last his fingers scratched over the correct sequence.
The door opened, but by then it was too late. Kagami froze as he felt the razor kiss of a scalpel nicking the side of his neck in warning.
“Why hello there,” the sinister chuckle tickled his ear. “Fancy meeting you, Kagami-kun.”
This wasn’t right. The diamond dust should have at least sent Akabane into a fit of hacking and coughing. Even if the man was somehow able to negate its effects in short time, the dust should have bought Kagami the time he needed.
“It might interest you to know,” Akabane murmured, “that my colleague Lady Poison has been ever so helpful in teaching me how to employ the breathing techniques she uses to avoid your sparkle dust.”
Kagami held back a sigh. He should have known, truly. “How thoughtful of her,” he managed to say without faltering.
“Yes, wasn’t it?” Akabane agreed, the smile ripe in his tone. “No doubt you are wondering how I was able to track you so well, even in this gloom. It’s quite simple, really.”
“Do share,” Kagami drawled. He wondered if he could surprise the doctor with a flash of glass in the face – then decided against it. The scalpel was too close for comfort, and another one was even now coming around to rest against the front of his throat. He’d never get the mirror formed before Jackal sliced his head clean off.
“With pleasure.” Akabane slipped an arm around Kagami’s waist and moved in closer, the heat of his breath caressing Kagami’s cheek. “I can smell your blood, you see.”
To prove it, one of the knives – the one that had stopped Kagami’s flight – dragged its fang in a shallow hiss across the skin. Kagami had to fight the urge to flinch at the tiny burn, but when Akabane bent his head and slowly licked the thin streak of blood welling to the surface, he couldn’t help himself.
“Funny, I hadn’t figured you for one of those,” he said, hoping it sounded more nonchalant than he felt.
Akabane sniffed. “Vampirism is a trite and incorrect explanation for my artistry. I do not require blood to survive. The pleasure I find in bloodletting comes from hard-won experience, the skill necessary for a successful hunt. Nothing compares to the throb of pressure, the scent of exhilaration in cold terror.”
He put his lips to Kagami’s ear, just above the cuff of his earring, and bit the flesh. “I need no mirrors or diamonds to guide my path. Mine is the instinct of true death – that which seeks out life.”
This would, Kagami decided, be far more enjoyable if the threat of instant death wasn't present. For all his coldness, Akabane possessed a peculiar sensuality that, if tapped correctly, was liable to set both him and his victim aflame.
Then again, he thought with wry amusement, perhaps it wasn't so much anything on the doctor's part as it was his own emotions running riot with him. Fear was a double-edged aphrodisiac.
He wondered if Doctor Jackal could be made to feel fear. Now there was an interesting experiment. Assuming one lived long enough to see the results, of course.
Kagami always had had a secret passion for living dangerously.
“I should like to have a closer look at one of those blades of yours, if you wouldn't mind,” he said smoothly. “I do admire fine craftsmanship, you see, and it would certainly be a comfort to know that I may be dispatched by a true professional.”
Flattery could get one almost anywhere, and Akabane was no exception. With a pleased purr he acquiesced to the request. “You may examine it but do not touch the edge, Kagami-kun. It is very sharp,” he warned, withdrawing the knife that had been at Kagami's throat – the other had vanished to whereabouts unknown when the man had cut him – and laying the flat side of it against the Observer's fingers...though he did not release it entirely.
Kagami had no doubt that Akabane could still deal a fatal wound, close as he was, even though he now no longer faced the threat of an impromptu tracheotomy. Surprise was everything here, so he remained in place, resting his hand carefully over a gloved one in order to touch the proffered scalpel. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell what exactly the thing looked like, though the blade glowed an electric blue that gave him just enough light for his purposes.
“A superb rendition indeed,” Kagami remarked, as though he were critiquing a portrait. “Very elegant. Very efficient. You really form them from your own bloodstream?”
“Oh yes,” Akabane replied, sounding delighted by Kagami's compliments. “Once an element is introduced into my blood, I may form as many weapons from it as I wish. That's how I was able to employ your own diamond dust against you, you see.”
“Ahh,” was Kagami's languid answer. “Yes, I admit, that was quite a surprise for me. I must wonder, however, what happens if you receive too much of that element at a time.”
“Hmm.” The frown in the other man's voice was subtle confusion. “I cannot say that I recall such a thing ever having happened to me before. I suppose it's one of the unknown variables that makes my existence unique, yes?”
“Quite likely,” Kagami agreed. “Why don't we find out?”
Jackal stiffened, a low hiss streaming past the Observer's ear that swiftly turned into a grunt of pain when the piece of glass shard found its way into his thigh. He stabbed at his attacker and growled when the body dissolved into broken mirrors – irritation that suddenly became shock when he felt the real Kagami pouring – flooding – diamond dust into his femoral artery.
Akabane's choked cry was high and thin, like the wail of a distressed cat, and in the gloom of the scalpels' dim illumination Kagami caught a glimpse of what almost looked like a keen betrayal in the doctor's eyes as the man crumpled to the floor. Odd, that one who had been designated the requisite traitor of the game should feel such notions. Although it wasn't entirely off base to suggest that there was still some honor among thieves of his ilk.
The transporter was squirming like a half-crushed bug on the floor, coughing, gagging, vomiting up what looked to be like bloodied clumps of misshapen weapons. Kagami knew he should go, should retreat while the other was momentarily incapacitated, but he found the sight weirdly mesmerizing. A shame he wouldn't be able to use this injection technique a second time if they met again in the future, though. Such was the pesky drawback to learning from one's mistakes.
Having garnered enough information for his satisfaction, Kagami turned to exit through the escape door with a nod to the injured man. “I do appreciate your generous cooperation in my studies,” he chuckled as he idly stroked his earring. “Though I apologize for the damage to your garments. Good tailoring is so difficult to find these days.” He didn't think the wound he'd dealt Akabane was lethal, but the transporter would probably find the next several hours quite uncomfortable, what with as much dust as Kagami had pumped him full of. It was something worth keeping an eye on, at any rate.
Wisely, he did not turn his back completely on that wounded animal when he made his exit, and it was none too soon because Akabane had evidently expelled enough of the noxious glass to recover for a sufficient attack. He lunged at Kagami with a fistful of knives; only by good timing and good fortune did Kagami evade the strike that would have amputated both his legs above the knees. He slipped through the passage and shut the door smartly in Jackal's face.
With the doctor left to ponder his illusions in total darkness – Kagami was unconcerned that he might try to follow; that door was specially sealed and its location constantly shifted to prevent outsiders' discovery – all that remained was for Kagami to report back to headquarters on his gatherings. He smiled congratulations at himself for not only having cheated death but also gaining some valuable observations as well.
He tripped the main switch in the hall and nascent overhead lighting briefly stung his eyes before the level adjusted to a comfortable view. Still smiling, humming a contented tune under his breath, Kagami started to stroll along the corridor and gasped when his knees gave out from under him.
Pain lashed a bitter chord through his legs. He rolled, cursing, and put a hand to one of the backs of his knees. It came away slick with red film. He gingerly explored the edges of the wound with his fingertips, tracing the unmistakable signature he'd come to recognize. Well. This was going to be fun for the Trust's medical team to fix. He thanked his lucky stars that they would be able to fix it – Kagami's brief recklessness notwithstanding, a man of Doctor Jackal's expertise might have gotten in the last word after all.
Interesting, that.
--
