Title: Sinister and Exquisite

Author: Thursday Saint Giles

Pairing: D/Leon, Carmen/Ivy

Rating: NC-17

Summary: D sells Suhara a rather strange pet, and Leon joins ACME.  But no one really gets quite what they expected, and nothing turns out how it should.  Response to challenge #171. Carmen SanDiego (If bereft!Leon had been tailing her, she’d have been caught in a week.)

Warning/Spoilers: This covers everything up through Shin Petshop vol. 3 and the entirety of Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego.  There is a fair sprinkling of original characters and at least 1/2 of the story is from the perspective of someone who is not D or Leon.  Regardless, it should be easy to understand and enjoy without having seen Carmen, though not without having read at least some of the original Petshop.

            When it rained, Suhara felt very old, all the aches in his body amplified a dozen times.  Ilsey had teased him for living in San Francisco, but moving back to Japan hadn’t made things much easier on him.  At least, not physically.  The emotional distance, however, was profound.  Everyone, everywhere in the world had heard of Carmen Sandiego, to be sure.  But people in America, particularly those in cities which housed ACME agencies, were inundated daily with news of her latest capers and the measures taken by her pursuers to capture her.  Saying he was retired was easy, but actually acting retired was another.  At home, in Japan, Suhara could go at a slower pace, get back in touch with what was really important.  Which wasn’t at all Carmen Sandiego.

            The place wasn’t so small.  It had been his aunt’s, and his grandparents’ before that, and probably in the family in some shape or another for near to a hundred years.  As such, it had never been broken down into smaller apartments.  The open space and sparse decoration made him think of Carmen’s San Francisco flat.  Somehow, her ghost seemed to chase him no matter where he went.  Parts of her crept into his everyday life.

            Ilsey liked to visit on her free days.  Using the C-5 corridor for personal reasons was supposed to be forbidden, but it was a widely known secret that the Chief really didn’t care, if one was discreet.  She would nag at him that he needed to get out more often, and that his décor was bland, and that he needed a life, stat.  She also brought a plant every time she visited, til his flat had become a veritable jungle.

            When Suhara had lived in Japan, oh so many decades ago, his parents had lived in the country.  He’d left for a study abroad programme when he was fourteen, and ACME invited him to join the following year.  He’d only been back to Japan to visit infrequently since then, his family preferring to come to America, and things had definitely changed in the past fifty years.  He tried to go out, but everything was so fast paced, bright, loud and crass.  San Francisco had been busy…Tokyo was insane.  Part of him wanted to go back to his parents’ home, but with only his father puttering around these days, he was certain to be even more depressed.  The house would no doubt echo with the emptiness left by his mother’s death.

            Ilsey said, “Suhara, this place is depressing the shit out of me.  Get yourself a pussy, or something.”  She was always so foul.  Suhara couldn’t explain why they were friends.  Of course, he couldn’t explain why he still loved Carmen, either.

            He thought about it, and smiled in fond remembrance at how Carmen adored felines.  She’d been well on her way to being a crazy cat lady by sixteen, and he could only imagine now, with her various worldwide mansions, that her collection had only grown.  He didn’t even try to lie to himself, deciding to purchase a kitten as some pathetic attempt to stay close to Carmen, if only in his own mind.

            Maybe Suhara was just getting old—turning into one of those crazy, picky, senile men who drove the younger generation mad—but the chain pet stores turned him off immediately.  The crowds, the false clean smell, the small cages filled to the point of bursting with whimpering, and unhappy animals made his stomach turn.  Then the landlady of the apartment complex next door mentioned a lovely little shop run by a charming Chinese gentlemen in the Shinjuku district.  She went on at great length about the song bird she’d bought, and Suhara was actually slightly disturbed that she seemed to be talking more of a lover than an animal, but felt it best not to say anything.

            The landlady had said the shop was only a year old, at most.  It was part of the Neo-Chinatown structure, a fabulous towering creation, melding old and new designs.  There were several stores within the enclosure—clothing shops, a theatre, dining establishments and massage parlours, and so much more…And then there was the entrance—dark red double doors covered in an elaborate design that looked to be made of gold.  The sign read simply “Pet Shop,” but something unnameable hung in the air over the shop, and heavy cloud of mixed blessing and foreboding that made Suhara linger long moments at the top of the outside, staring at the doors as if he expected them to perform some trick.

            Carmen had always been the superstitious one of the two.  Suhara had ribbed her about it endlessly, but she had never minded.  She was solemn about such things, always insisting they show proper respect for the spirits of things.  It was why he couldn’t fully understand her switch from detective to thief, but perhaps explained why she stole for the challenge, rather than for monetary gain, and why she took care that the artefacts were always returned intact and why she made sure the ACME agents weren’t hurt…All the same, Suhara felt this weird warning as if it was emblazoned in bright lettering in the air before him.

            Still, Suhara hadn’t been an ACME agent for nothing.  Carmen might be the big threat now, but he remembered when he and Carmen had been partners together, and the horrible people they’d put away.  He’d surely faced far worse than a petshop.  As he stepped forward, the sensation seemed to dissipate altogether, leaving behind only the cheerful chatter of commerce. 

A bell just inside the door rang as he stepped inside, and as his eyes were adjusting to the suddenly dim lighting of the interior, a pleasantly deep, heavily accented yet readily understandable voice spoke, “Welcome to Count D’s Petshop.  Might I help you find that which you desire?  We have all sorts of pets, from all areas and eras of the world, common and exotic, dangerous and docile…”

The man was standing in an interior doorway, his silhouette thin and pleasing to the eye.  As Suhara’s vision became clearer the man approached, and Suhara was caught off guard by his beauty.  His painted lips curved into a slight smile.  “Ah…you look like a cat person,” he remarked.

Suhara was shocked, but didn’t let it show.  “Actually, yes,” he answered, still lingering in the doorway.

“Please, come in.  I am certain we can find something to your liking.” The Count waved a hand, gesturing for Suhara to have a seat on the brocade chaise.  “I was just about to sit down for tea.  Won’t you join me?”

It was in Suhara’s nature to be wary of strangers, and this one in particular set off all sorts of alarms.  All the same, Suhara found himself taking the seat proffered him.  The Count followed, taking an armchair across the low coffee table and perched on the edge, carefully and precisely pouring the tea.  Suhara frowned to see there were two cups already ready to be filled.  “Where you expecting someone?” He asked.

The Count smiled without looking up.  “No one,” he answered.  “Sugar?”

“No thank you,” Suhara answered gruffly, taking the cup and saucer held out.  He watched in horrified amazement as the man proceeded to load his own cup with ten of the cubes, til the tea had risen almost to the brim.  He took a sip and smiled in delight.  Suhara’s stomach turned at the sight.

“So, Mister…” the Count trailed off politely and Suhara filled the silence with his name.  “Suhara-san, then, did you have a particular breed in mind this afternoon.”

“Not really.  An old friend used to be fond of the oriental breeds, but I have no similar inclination,” Suhara replied.  He really hadn’t made any decision beyond that of a cat.  This place was making him uneasy, and he set aside his cup after a single sip.  He didn’t see any pets, and the only scent was the slightly sweet incense.  He wondered how he could excuse himself quickly without appearing rude.

As if reading his mind, the Count set down his own cup and saucer, and folded his hands neatly in his lap.  “I think, Suhara-san, that I have just the perfect pet for you.” He stood and the wrinkles fell right out of his gorgeous cheongsam.  “Please, follow me.” He beckoned with a finger over his shoulder as he glided toward the beaded curtain separating this room from the next.

Beyond the curtain, steps led upstairs…but certainly the shop only took up one floor…there was another shop just above it.  Still, up the stairs they went.  Alcoves and doors lined the walls, and beyond each Suhara could now hear the soft sounds of various animals.  The Count led him to the sixth door down on the right and opened it to a cavernous room.

The room was opulently appointed, and occupied not by cats, but dozens upon dozens of humans, of various ages and races, lounging about in exotic costumes.  “What is this?” Suhara demanded, his hand immediately going to his wrist out of habit, ready to contact headquarters at a moment’s notice.

“Why, these are my pets, Suhara-san.  And I am certain you will find what you seek amongst them.” The Count’s expression was serene and unassuming. 

Suhara meant to argue the point, really he did, but then he saw her.  She was smaller than most of the others, probably no more than eight, with shoulder length black curls, and wide blue eyes.  She was eerily familiar, and before Suhara had really thought about it, he was moving toward her.  The sadness in her eyes was almost overwhelming, and he thought to himself, if he could make it go away, just a little, he in turn could be the happiest man on the planet.

“Carmen?” He asked in disbelief.  Those wide eyes stared at him unblinking, and in them he found his answer.  Here was the thing he’d never dared wish for…a chance to start over with Carmen, from the very beginning.  He’d only met her when she was twelve, and they hadn’t become partners until she was fourteen, but he’d always thought that if she’d had a parent instead of a superior she might have turned out differently.

Suhara saw the sinister twist of the Count’s lips, but that couldn’t stop the strange sensation of joy at seeing Carmen standing before him as a child.  “I see that I was correct, Suhara-san.  Only…there are a few things we must discuss, before your purchase is complete.  A contract is to be signed.”

“A contract?” Suhara echoed, arching a dubious brow. 

“Suhara-san, I must be sure all of my pets will be well looked after,” the Count chastised.  “There are a few minor details, rules to which you must adhere, or I cannot take responsibility for what might happen.”

“What might happen?” Suhara asked suspiciously.

“Merely a precaution, of course,” the Count said breezily. 

Carmen followed them obediently down the hall, clasping her hands in her front.  Suhara couldn’t help laying his hand on her shoulder lightly.  She almost arched into the touch, and it was endearing.  Suhara could barely keep his eyes off her, only following the Count because Carmen was.

In the foyer, Count D produced a scroll-like slip of paper, already filled out save three blanks, which he filled quickly in neat lettering, and then turned for Suhara to read.

Never allow her anything in excess.   Always show her unconditional love, even in your remonstrations of her actions.  “The third is most important, Suhara-san,” the Count interjected softly.  Always keep her engaged and entertained.  At the bottom, Count D absolved himself of any responsibility should the rules be disregarded and any negative consequences suffered.  It was straightforward, and the stipulations were relatively simple ones.  Suhara signed his name on the allotted line, and tried to ignore the spark in the Count’s eyes.

“Enjoy one another’s company,” the Count said in parting.  “A good friend can be the key to understanding one’s self.”

 

Somehow, the day seemed brighter when Suhara exited the pet shop.  Carmen still had not spoken, but she was much more exuberant upon their departure.  She skipped along the sidewalk just ahead of him, kicking and grabbing at the falling sakura petals, giggling in delight.  “Do you like them, Carmen?”

She paused and looked over her shoulder at him, blinking.  “Is that what my name is, now?” She asked. 

Suhara frowned and went down on one knee before her, taking her shoulders in hand.  “I know things have been difficult for you until now, but I swear I’ll make it all up to you.”

Carmen squirmed under his touch and he sensed she was uncomfortable and let her go.  “It wasn’t so bad at the shop,” she said, turning to continue walking.  Suhara fell in step beside her.  “D was very good to us, but the other children were mostly older, or already had friends.  No one really likes an orphan…not even other orphans.”

Suhara’s heart swelled with his love for her, but he restrained himself from reaching out again.  “Carmen,” he began, delicately.  “You’re a very bright girl…” She preened up at him at the praise.  “You must realise that what you say is not entirely true.  Being an orphan is difficult to be sure.  But I hope that you will come, in time, to consider me to be your family.  And then, perhaps, you will no longer think of yourself as an orphan at all.”

An almost sullen silence fell between them, and when she spoke, her tone was uncertain.  “Maybe.”

 

            The news was playing on the television over the bar, and though it was on mute, Leon could make out enough to tell that Carmen Sandiego had stolen some rare artefact in Egypt.  He shook his head and spoke out loud, “Whenever I think I’ve got a lot of shit to deal with, I look at what that crazy bitch is up to, and realise I don’t have it anywhere as bad as those ACME gumshoes.”

            The woman next to him gave him a sidelong glance, and then looked at the television.  She was his type—shoulder length red hair, bright green eyes, full peach coloured lips and a curvy little body that her tight midriff and cargo pants showed off quite nicely.  In the sweltering South African heat her creamy skin glistened with sweat.  He could tell from her body language that she wasn’t interested, and it was probably just as well.  He had other things to worry about than chasing a piece of ass—namely, chasing D.

            “I’m sure the detectives at ACME enjoy their job immensely,” she said, her tone too inscrutable for Leon to glean any willingness or not to be involved in a conversation. 

            He rolled his beer bottle between his hands, the condensation pouring in rivulets down the dark amber glass.  He kept looking for something in the patterns the liquid traced, but the lines kept changing.  He spoke without really meaning to.  “ACME tried to recruit me once.  My senior year of college.  Guess I’d done pretty well, and I’d got this scholarship from them in high school.  Nothing fancy.  Just enough to cover my books ever year.  But I guess that kinda got me on their radar, and they kept an eye on me throughout college…” He realised he was rambling and trailed off.

            “Why didn’t you take them up on it?”  She asked.  He could tell from the incredulousness in her voice that she thought he was crazy for not doing so.  It made sense.  ACME was a huge agency, and it was well known for taking good care of its agents—the pay was awesome, the hours were great, there was lots of down time and free travel, and the benefits and 401K made sure agents were taken care of their entire lives.

            Leon snorted.  “Well, it’s like I said.  Chasing after Carmen Sandiego…how pointless is that—even when someone’s managed to catch her, she always gets away again.  Besides, she’s not really hurting anyone, right?  So I thought I could make a difference or some shit if I joined the police force, instead.”

            She was smiling at him now.  Still not into him, but at least she wasn’t annoyed.  “And how’s that working out for you?”  She asked, pointedly looking around at the hole-in-the-wall tavern they currently occupied.

            “It’s a long story,” he assured her, in that way he had that made most people drop the subject.  But she tilted her head to the side and looked at him expectantly.  “It wasn’t all I thought it would be,” he said, trying to make it as sweet and simple as possible, make it sound boring.  “I wasn’t really making a difference.  I could have worked til I dropped dead in sixty years and never made a dent in what goes on in L.A.”  He shrugged.  “And there was this one case…dragged on forever, and there was never a conviction—hell, never even an arrest.  I spent years on that fucking case…I was disgusted with it all; I just had to give it up, try doing things my own way.”

            “And that does make a difference?” She prompted dubiously.

            Abruptly, Leon liked her, for more than her really nice physical appearance.  She exuded confidence and charisma, and her sarcastic tone was more friendly than scathing.  It was really nice to not only find someone who shared his language, but with whom he could carry on a fairly decent conversation.  “I’ll let you know,” he told her wryly. 

            She tipped her beer at him in cheers, and he clinked their bottles together.  “Sooo…” She drawled the word out for a long time, like she didn’t know what to say, but Leon saw in her eyes that she knew exactly what she wanted to say and didn’t know if she should.  Finally she gave in with an embarrassed smile.  “What brings you to South Africa?” She leaned in to ask him in a conspiratorial, flirty way.

            Leon chuckled a little.  “I’m not even sure,” he told her, in all honesty.  She arched a brow.  “Well, I guess I started out looking for someone, but…” He trailed off.  It wasn’t something he could very easily explain, and anyway, he didn’t want to.  So many times people had asked him about his journey and it had got so that he was sick of hearing himself speak.  “Guess I’m still kinda looking for him.”

            The woman didn’t know what to say to that, apparently, so they drank in silence for a few minutes.  “What about you?” He asked belatedly.  She let out a breathy little laugh.

            “Funnily enough, I’m looking for someone, too.” She cocked her head to the side in amusement.  “She tends to be somewhat elusive.”

            “God, do I know the feeling…” Leon snorted and motioned for the bartender, who nodded and readied another round for them both.  Something occurred to him.  “Are you a cop?”

            She laughed out loud then, a full-bodied sound.  “Hell no!” She shot him a sidelong look and tried to sober herself but still let out another giggle.  “That isn’t to say…I don’t mean…” She cleared her throat and giggled again.  “I totally respect police officers, really, but I couldn’t work the way they do.  I’m a bit too…wilful, is I think how my mother puts it.  I’d get myself into all kinds of trouble with my superiors.”

            “Oh, believe me, I’ve been there,” Leon murmured under his breath, remembering the countless times he’d been called on the carpet…the majority of which he’d like to blame on D, and could rightly do so.

            It was comfortable, the conversation they’d fallen in to, and Leon would have liked to continue it, even if he wasn’t getting laid, but her watch began to beep and she when she said “Yo, Zack,” it took Leon a second to realise she was wearing a Blue Tooth.  She sighed heavily and nodded.  “I’ll be right there.”

            “Sorry, gotta split.  He’s a little helpless without me sometimes.” She gave him another look as she stood, laid down her money for her bill and took her jacket from the bar.  “Thanks for keeping me company.  God knows what my mind would have got up to if you hadn’t distracted me.”

            “Hey, I’m good for a distraction,” Leon said with a heavy dose of self-deprecating humour.

            “Maybe I’ll see you around,” She said in parting.  Leon wasn’t going to hold his breath.  He wasn’t going to think about the last time he’d had sex.  He wasn’t going to think about D, or any of it.  He was going to get wasted, and not think about anything.

           

            The apartment wasn’t really equipped for a little girl, but then, Carmen wasn’t a normal little girl.  She was quite happy with the frameless futon mattress in the spare room.  Suhara himself had got so used to the Western way of living that he himself wasn’t quite used to living in Japan again, and the ease with which Carmen took to things was impressive.  She said she was just excited to have place to herself, after living so long with so many others.

            Their first evening together was somewhat awkward.  Suhara was accustomed to eating infrequently, whenever he felt hungry, but with a growing child he knew he had to be more regular.  He made a simple meal of rice and vegetables, and they ate together in silence.  These long bouts without conversation made Suhara nervous, particularly when he thought of what the Count had said about keeping her entertained.

            “Would you like me to read you something?” Suhara offered nervously.

            “I can read for myself,” she said, matter-of-factly, but not impolitely.  She stared at him with those wide-eyes and he was unnerved.

            Suhara cleared his throat.  “Alright…perhaps…would you like to watch some television?”

            Carmen sniffed and turned up her nose.  “Count D says that television rots the brain.”

            Suhara chuckled gently.  “Well, perhaps some of it.  But I am certain we could find some programming that is educational.”  Carmen twisted her lips in a dubious sort of way, but didn’t say ‘no.’ He could tell she was interested in the way one could only be from having never experienced something.  How very strange that a child of her age should never have happened upon a television.

            They installed themselves before the television and Suhara managed to find a channel that was doing a biography on Salvador Dali.  He made sure to sit at the far end of the sofa from Carmen, giving her plenty of room.  He didn’t want to crowd her, or make her uncomfortable.  All the same, as the evening wore on, and the show ended and another began, she began to inch nearer to him, until, at last, she was curled in his lap.  She reminded him of nothing so much as a cat, the way she could roll into so tiny a ball, the way she made herself comfortable in his loose embrace.  She fell asleep almost at once, and Suhara sat with her a long time before carrying her to bed.   
            In the morning they went shopping.  Suhara didn’t know much about little girls, so he let her pick out for herself what clothing she wanted to wear.  She wasn’t fussy about it, and went for practicality more than anything else.  Then Suhara took her to a game store.  Carmen was fascinated by everything there, and Suhara spent a ridiculous sum on puzzles and brainteasers and a variety of board and word games.  He offered to take her to a toy store, but she was uninterested, insisting they go to a bookstore instead.

            Suhara knew she could read because she’d said so, and he didn’t expect she was lying.  All the same, he imagined she meant picture books with large print and simple sentences.  He didn’t know much about children, and it had been a long time since he’d been one.  So he was quite surprised when she went directly for the classical literature section, and then berated himself for it, because this was Carmen.  She was the brightest person he’d known in his life.  Certainly she would be ahead of those children her own age.

            As though all this special, undivided attention had been just what she’d needed, Carmen was far less sullen and far more talkative.  She was so fascinating—a child and an adult in one.  She spoke with the enthusiasm and gracelessness of a child, and though her ideas where those of an adult, they were disorderly and not entirely understood.  None-the-less, it was most impressive and Suhara found himself listening to her for hours, as they shopped and dined, and made their way home.  He was privately delighted when she slipped her tiny hand in his sometime around mid-afternoon.

            They had a long way to go, but he and Carmen had always been a force to be reckoned with.  At the time, they had been the greatest partners in the history of ACME.  Together, they could do anything.

 

South Africa had to be the most depressing place on the planet.  Leon had come…well, he wasn’t sure why.  He was in Africa anyway, and he’d heard about all the archaeological sites in the area, and the Cradle of Humanity near Johannesburg.  If he’d really thought about it, there wasn’t any reason it should interest D, but for reasons he didn’t entirely understand, he felt he should visit it all anyway.

            Leon wanted to leave, but he’d spent all the cash he’d grubbed up in Scandinavia just travelling through Egypt, Sudan and the Congo and had somehow managed his way through Rwanda, Zambia and Botswana before ending up in South Africa, and now he couldn’t leave again until he had the proper funds.  He hated feeling helpless, and that was a necessary side effect of having no money.

            He found himself running errands without asking questions, and providing security for a man who looked quite dangerous enough to take care of himself, but the pay was decent.  Downtime was few and far between, but that gave him less time to think about what he was or was not doing.  He actually didn’t look forward to days off, when he would mostly sleep in and drink all day, and maybe go for a swim or a jog.

He’d stopped smoking a few years before, but coming to South Africa had made him pick up the habit again.  He went through a pack every couple days, and he knew what D would have to say about it, and he didn’t fucking care.  The chastening didn’t have the same effect when it was only imagined.

            The man, Alexander Graves the third, was a wealthy gentleman probably ten years Leon’s senior, married with two daughters and about five mistresses (that Leon knew about).  He’d recently relocated to South Africa from France and often expressed his distaste for the locale, but had business to attend to. 

Leon served as a sort of jack-of-all-trades for Graves.  He mostly served as chauffer for the daughters and wife, though he had done everything from shopping for Christmas presents for Graves’ mother to providing entertainment for Graves’ mistresses when he was too busy (though Leon’s entertainment was of a decidedly different nature—no matter how bangin’ the chicks were, Leon didn’t feel like dealing with Graves’ reaction).  Graves had some sort of shipping business, or something, and brought foreign goods into the country.  It was all legit, but Leon had his own ideas about what the guy was actually up to.

It was funny, really, and sometimes Leon laughed about it until he almost cried, because it wasn’t funny.  He knew Graves was into drug trafficking, and he was pretty damn sure there was some even shadier stuff going on.  All the things he’d accused D of, though he’d never believed half of them and couldn’t prove any of them…well, he thought it was a pretty safe bet that Graves was up to each and every one of them.  And yet…here he was, on this guy’s payroll.  Life had a funny way of really fucking Leon over, making him doubt everything he’d been living for, made him doubt who he was.  He had to go after D, because D had to be caught.  D had to be caught because of what he did, and it was wrong.  But Leon was out of cash, and couldn’t go anywhere, so he abandoned his morals entirely for a few bucks?  It didn’t even make sense to him, so he didn’t think about it, and kept his eyes on the road.

Today they were mostly in the car.  Leon drove him to one of his warehouses, and Leon knew all the contents were on the up and up, which was probably the only thing that kept him from driving away and never looking back.  Graves was meeting this weird guy, Svede, who looked like nothing more than a hired assassin.  They talked for a long time in the distance and Svede smoked a lot and then they went their separate ways.

“You know, Leon, if you’re interested in a little extra cash,” Grave said, in that snobby, upper crust London accent of his, “I have a business proposition for you.”

Leon swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.  “I think my income right now is sufficient.”

Graves tossed his head in impatience and amusement.  “Please, we both know it is a mere pittance.”

“All the same,” Leon persisted.

“You know, I entirely respect that you were a police officer.  But, Leon, that was America.  This is South Africa.  Surely you must understand that this is an entirely different world,” Graves murmured.  He sounded so reasonable.  It actually made Leon think of D, talking all smooth like he wasn’t causing people to die.  It made the bile rise in his throat.

“All the same,” Leon muttered tightly.

Graves sighed.  “Very well.  Suit yourself.”

They finished early.  Leon could tell Graves was annoyed that Leon had turned him down, but didn’t say much more until Leon had dropped him off at his home that evening.  “If you happen to see my…associate, Svede, I would advise you stay away from him, particularly after your refusal, this afternoon.  He has a most unhealthy interest in you, and I’d hate to see anything happen to you.  It is so difficult to find an intelligent and capable driver in this city.”

That got Leon thinking, and very uncomfortable as he turned over in his mind what Graves could have meant by what he said.  A quick way to get his mind off it was a drink.  It was still early, but Leon’s brain was working overtime and he just wanted it to shut up, so he headed to the bar.

            Somewhere, deep inside, Leon was kinda hoping she’d be there and totally thinking she wouldn’t be, so it was a pleasant, welcome surprise when he saw familiar flame red hair at the bar.  He slid onto the seat next to her and she was startled for a moment, but when her eyes lit on his face, she smiled.

            “Hey, you,” she said, and stopped.

            “Leon,” he supplied.

            “Leon.” She made a face, trying the name out.  “Cool.  I’m Ivy.” They shook hands awkwardly and laughed at themselves afterwards.  “I didn’t know if I was going to come back tonight.” She laughed again and shook her head.

            “I didn’t know you were going to, either,” he said, and grinned.

            It turned out neither of them were very good at the conversation thing.  But then, a ball game came on the television, and that got them started on sports, and Leon was secretly thrilled to find a woman who liked sports.  They debated for some time which team was the best, and then she laughed when they both got so worked up about it, and Leon realised, suddenly, that here was this fascinating, gorgeous, intelligent woman who liked sports and he didn’t want to have sex with her, and was quite startled by this.  Before he could really think about it, though, the band on her wrist began to chirp again and she fumbled with her Blue Tooth.

“Yo, Chief.”  There was silence for a moment, and Leon looked away, trying not to listen in, but failing miserably.  The no-nonsense tone and the form of address made him instantly curious. 

            “No, you tell Zack if he even thinks about setting one foot inside that building before either Jasmine or I are there for backup, I am totally telling mom and he’ll be grounded for the rest of his life.  Not to mention what I’ll do to him first.”  She sighed and gave Leon an exasperated look.  He gave her a supportive grimace.

            “Nuh—no…Chief…No!” She stood up so quickly she knocked over her stool and jammed a hand in her pocket, fishing out several bills and slamming them on the bar.  “I’m on my way now, and you can tell him I know about what he and Tatyanna were up to last weekend.  Let him chew on that for a while.”  She pressed a button on her wristband that seemed to end the call and gave Leon a sheepish look.

            “Duty calls,” said explained, grabbing a brown leather jacket from where it had fallen on the floor.  She gave him a speculative look.  “You know, you’re really interesting…”

            “You said you weren’t a cop,” Leon said, rather stupidly.

            “Yeah,” She said, unenthusiastically.  “I have to get going before my partner gets his ass kicked.”  She flicked a card at him as she began to walk away.  “Call me if you feel like reconsidering your career choice.  The Chief is always looking for a few good men.”

            Under the large, block letters of ACME was her name, Ivy Parker – Senior Detective, followed by two numbers and an email address.  Leon considered the card for a second, then caught himself and shook his head for even thinking of giving her a call.  He had things to do, places to search.  He’d been in South Africa too long, doing slightly mercenary work to make a bit of cash to carry him up the coast to southern India.  But this place was depressing as hell.  He threw his own payment down on the counter, saluted the bartender who gave him a vague nod, and headed out the door, flicking the card in the trash as he went.

 

            Isabel Méchants glanced at the clock, and let out a little private sigh of relief to see that the workday was nearly complete.  It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job, but on days like this one, all she could think about was escaping home.  A case had needed her personal attention—more of Carmen Sandiego’s V.I.L.E. henchmen caught mid-crime.  Since V.I.L.E. made up at least a half of her employees’ daily caseload, she made a habit of coming in and checking on the process of each case.  She liked to assess the arguments and evidence and assure the defendants that every measure was being taken to secure their freedom. 

            Some people told her that being a defence attorney was as bad as being a criminal herself, but Isabel had given it plenty of thought before going into business as one.  The way she saw it, the kids at V.I.L.E. didn’t really do much of anything.  Sure, they were accessories to the crimes committed by Carmen Sandiego…but if Carmen always returned what she stole, then where was the crime?  And Isabel never had and never would take the case of someone she knew was guilty.  She insured that all cases (with the obvious exception of those pertaining to V.I.L.E.) dealt in proving the innocence of a wrongly accused man or woman.  It had earned her a good reputation with the prosecuting attorneys and the judges, even if they’d never admit it.

            The intercom on her desk buzzed and she tapped her finger on the button.  “Yes?” She inquired politely.  Though she felt a headache coming on, and couldn’t wait to be home, she wouldn’t take it out on an employee.

            “Ms. Méchants, that gentleman from the prosecutors office is here again, and he’s brought along an ACME agent.” Her secretary didn’t need to be any more specific.  She always dealt with Mr. Adrian from the D.A.’s office.

            “Allow them in, please, Lillian,” Isabel said, certain that the humour was evident in her tone of voice.  It would be interesting, this meeting.  Even more interesting the presence of an ACME agent.  Isabel had heard a great deal about the detectives directly involved in the pursuit of Carmen Sandiego, but had yet to have the honour of greeting them in her office.

            When the doors opened, Adrian led the way.  His familiar smirk was met with an arched brow from Isabel.  He was an attractive enough man—in his late forties with dark hair just going silver at the hairline, and slight wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.  He always dressed very smartly, of which Isabel approved greatly.  Too many of the men and women with the prosecutor’s office thought fashion wasn’t important, but Isabel knew appearance was very key.  The agent accompanying him…

            “Isabel Méchants,” Adrian said, purposely mispronouncing her name with an IZ-a-bel, instead of ee-sah-BEL, “allow me to introduce Ivy Parker, senior agent in charge of the pursuit of Carmen Sandiego.”

            The redhead girl was scowling, but shook Isabel’s hand.  Her hand was rough, her grip firm, and she met Isabel’s eyes insolently.  Isabel definitely approved.  “Agent Parker,” she greeted in a soft voice. 

            “Ivy’s fine,” the girl muttered.  Isabel dipped her head in acquiescence.  “Look, I want to know just how you plan on butchering the evidence I worked so hard to gather.”

            “Ivy,” Adrian hissed under his breath.

            “Please, Ivy,” Isabel murmured, “Adrian, have a seat.” She gestured toward the sofa and armchairs clustered around the coffee table.  Adrian took a seat at once, but Ivy shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably for a moment.

            “I’d rather stand,” Ivy said at last, around a pensive scowl.

            “As you wish,” Isabel said, trying very hard to hide her smile.  Ivy’s behaviour was just delightful.  She went to one of the armchairs and settled herself on the arm, putting her above Adrian’s height and on level with Ivy.  “Now, Ivy, please, share with me your concerns.”

            Ivy crossed her arms defensively over her chest and hesitated.  Adrian took that opportunity to speak for her.  “Ivy has been working on the Carmen Sandiego case since she was sixteen.  Recently she’s begun to take an interest in what happens after she makes her arrests.” He spoke with a sort of pride that made Isabel curious.

            “So young!” Isabel exclaimed.  “You must be quite a bright child, Ivy.”

            Ivy bristled.  “I’m twenty-two, for your information, and I guess I’m just curious how the people I keep catching mid-crime get off within a couple months, just to commit more crimes.”

            “Ivy is new to the legal process,” Adrian explained, spreading his hands expressively.

            Ivy shot him a dark look.  “Yeah,” she said, her tone scathingly sarcastic.  “Or maybe anyone would be kinda curious how we caught General Mayhem with the loot in his hands, and also have on record his handwritten and signed confession, and you still get him off with two weeks community service working with the boy scouts, who, I believe, kicked him out because of his sociopath tendencies.”

            Isabel rubbed her hands together, and shot a glance at Adrian before responding.  “I believe that you and your brother safely rescued and returned all the stolen property involved in that case.  Regardless, Mister Mayhem, on my recommendation, took a plea bargain—community service for information on a member of his militia that led to his conviction.” 

Isabel smiled broadly, knowing the effect that had on people.  Indeed, Ivy looked uncomfortable and glanced away.  “Unfortunately, Ivy, there is far too much politic going into legal proceedings.  We must sometimes free the lesser criminals in order to capture the big fish.” 

“Well, maybe things will change,” Ivy said defiantly.

“Maybe,” Isabel conceded.  “Such things would take great effort and time.  Now…might I assume that the business bringing you to my office this evening is that of the Twins?” She directed her attention more fully toward Adrian, but kept her eye on Ivy as well.

“Double Trouble have gone too far this time,” Ivy snapped.

“Please, Ivy, Athor and Kyan were merely working under the direction of Carmen Sandiego.  And they freely gave up the information on where you could find her, once you’d arrested them,” Isabel purred.  She knew how to tame wild things.

“Please, Isabel.” Adrian interrupted her this time.  “The last time you got those two off, it was with the understanding that if they were caught again, they were going away for good.”

“And yet…” Isabel stopped and assessed them both for a moment.  She stood and strolled toward her desk.  She felt Ivy’s eyes on her all the while.  “According to the ACME report, the Twins were found lurking around outside the temple, behaving suspiciously…No mention of any outright criminal activity.”

“Oh, get real!” Ivy shouted.  “You know as well as we do that they were involved in stealing the statue, and that when we caught them they were about to make off with the entire building.”

Isabel’s lips curved into a smirk, but she got it under control before she turned back to face them.  She leaned over her desk, knowing how to use her height and figure to her advantage.  “Prove it,” she hissed.

Adrian stood abruptly, sighing.  “I see we’re not going to get you to see reason this time,” he said under his breath.  “Come along, Ivy.  Ms. Méchants, I’m certain we’ll see one another tomorrow.  Just be aware the D.A.’s office is not budging this time.  We will take this to trial and we will win.”

“I look forward to seeing you try,” Isabel said loftily.  Adrian pulled a face, grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door.  Ivy lingered a moment.

“What you’re doing is wrong,” Ivy told her softly.

“That is a matter of perspective, Ivy,” She said, grinning.  That gave Ivy another moment’s pause.  She tilted her head to the side, staring at Isabel’s features.  After a long silence, she shook her head.  She left without another word.

Isabel fell back in her seat, amused.  She undid her tie, letting the two ends fall loose, pulled the pins from her hair letting it tumble down, and undid the first few buttons of her shirt, letting out a sigh of relief.  She tapped the button again, and Lillian answered promptly.  “I think I am gone for the evening,” Isabel said simply.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lillian agreed, and ended the call.

The wardrobe in her bathroom was locked, and inside she kept several changes of clothing for the workday, as well as a few evening gowns, for nights when she stayed late before a gala or fundraising event.  Isabel unlocked the doors and pushed the clothing aside, then stepped inside.  She closed the door firmly behind her, locked it with the internal latch, and immediately the floor gave way beneath her feet.

Sara Bellum had specially designed the room beneath, so that no one would notice the missing space.  It was narrow and had a lower ceiling than most rooms, but served its purpose.  She finished undoing her shirt and tossed it aside, then unzipped and stepped out of her pencil skirt.  Her glasses were put away, her shoes discarded.  Then she dressed again.  This time she drew on a much shorter black skirt, a yellow turtleneck, and red pumps.  The red trench coat felt infinitely more comfortable than anything she wore in the office, and once she’d tugged on the matching fedora, she felt like herself again.  Isabel glanced in the mirror and smiled at her image. 

“Apparently Ivy has too much time on her hands,” she murmured to herself thoughtfully.  “I think I need to give her something to do…”

As she ascended the hidden staircase to the uppermost floor where her hover-car waited, Carmen began to devise a most stimulating case indeed…one that would keep Zack and Ivy busy for some time.

 

There was a little shop down the block on the corner where the owner was from Ireland and was a pretty cool old man.  Anyway, he ordered Leon’s favourite brand of cigarettes special.  “Hey Jacob,” Leon called, as he stepped in the door.  The man flicked him a wave, halfway through a conversation with the landlord of the rooms upstairs, a grumpy but amusing native.

He was running low on milk and he was completely out of bread and sandwich meat.  He shoved it all in a basket along with a few other miscellaneous odds and ends and was just heading back toward the counter when he heard raised voices from the front.  He shook his head in amusement, used to the heated debates the old men could get into, but then there was a loud, ringing crack with which Leon was very familiar—the sound of a gunshot.  He dropped his things and ran full tilt to the front just in time to see a white teenager barrelling out the front door.

The landlord was crouched on the floor screaming and Leon moved around the counter, everything in slow motion.  Jacob had been shot in the shoulder.  It wouldn’t kill him, probably.  “Hey, old man,” he snapped at the landlord.  “Come here and put pressure.” The man did as he was told and Leon jumped up and ran out the door.  The street wasn’t over crowded, and there was a group of teenagers standing still, looking behind themselves as if just interrupted.

“Did you see someone?” He demanded sharply, and they pointed around the corner.  He ran that way, but there was no one in sight.  He punched the wall in frustration, jamming his hand in his pocket for the cell phone his employer had lent him, then realised he had no idea what the emergency number was.  Annoyed at himself, as a way to ignore the creeping, paralysing concern for Jacob, Leon returned to the shop.  Thankfully, the ambulance had already been called.

Leon knelt at Jacob’s side, taking his pulse, which was fainter than he would have liked.  “Hang in there, gramps,” he said, trying to invoke a little humour.  Jacob hated it when Leon called him that.  It earned him a weak smile.

“When I’m on my feet again, you’re going to pay for that,” Jacob told him, a bit more breathlessly than made Leon comfortable.

He snorted.  “I’d like to see that…”

The ambulance was quick in coming, thank god, but Leon wasn’t allowed to ride along.  He took down the number for the hospital and felt a little helpless as they drove away.

The rest of the day, Leon was in a funk.  He went through an entire pack of cigarettes before lunch and cursed a lot, and called the hospital just after noon.  Jacob was out of surgery and they expected him to be fine, but it didn’t settle the turmoil Leon felt.

When Leon had first left Los Angeles, he’d charged headlong into his pursuit of D, and didn’t think too much about what he was leaving behind.  Of course, throughout the years between he’d done plenty of second-guessing himself, wondering if it had been the right thing to just quit his job for something he might never find.  He travelled from state to state, then country to country, and he sometimes got to feeling useless.  He wasn’t doing anything worthwhile.  Even if he tried to keep telling himself it was to catch D, and D was a criminal, it didn’t make it any better.  What was one criminal in the grand scheme of things?  Particularly when it had now taken him seven years to pursue the man and he was still no closer than he had been on day one.

So maybe he was crazy, or maybe he was still in shock over what had happened to Jacob, or maybe he was finally getting his head on straight.  Whatever the reason, after a few phone calls, Leon got an address.  He spent most the afternoon staring at the slip of paper on which he’d written it, and got up and almost left a few times, but didn’t quite go through with it, and finally, when night rolled around and it was too late, he wadded it up, then got really wasted and passed out.

Morning came bright and early, and even before he opened his eyes, the light seemed to shoot right into Leon’s skull, setting it on fire.  He stumbled out of bed, pissed, brushed his teeth and was in the shower for at least five minutes before he really woke.  He was supposed to pick up his client at eight, and it was almost a half-past seven already.  He would only make it if he hurried, but Leon found himself dragging his feet.  He shaved very precisely, then changed his shirt three times before he was satisfied, and put his hair up before deciding to leave it down, then putting it up again anyway because it was too hot for hair on his neck.

He was ten minutes late for work, and Graves didn’t look impressed, but other than his pinched lips and narrow eyes didn’t make any sign of it, or say anything.  And it was all wrong.  Leon drove him to the warehouse again, and then to his office downtown, then sat in a booth in a shady looking pub while Graves went into the back room with some thugs and his stomach twisted in knots while he thought about Jacob, and what Graves might be doing, and that creepy Svede guy.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was out of the booth and on the street, hailing a minibus-taxi.  He was uncertain about their driving abilities, having driven alongside them on the road…but the bus didn’t go where he wanted to go, and since he was quitting without notice and all, he didn’t think Graves would take too kindly to him stealing the car.  He spit out the address and sat back, and didn’t turn around to see if Graves was coming after him.

            The ACME office was not what Leon had been expecting.  It was in a rundown part of town, where the skyscrapers gave way to two and three storey buildings.  Here the façades were crumbling, the paint was peeling, and the streets were covered in trash and grease from the street vendors.  There was a rotten scent in the air, people standing in groups on the streets.  The taxi driver stopped just long enough for Leon to jump from the vehicle before he was speeding off again.

            ACME was a lonely looking single storey building on the corner of a main street and an alley, not connected to any other buildings, with a parking lot next door filled mostly with broken down or wrecked cars.  One of the windows in the front was broken and they all had bars, and the roof looked like it let in more rain that it would ever keep out.  Dismayed, to say the least, Leon hurried inside, well aware of the suspicious looks he was being given by the people on the street.

            Just inside there was a depressing little waiting room.  The linoleum floor was peeling, several of the orange plastic chairs were cracked or dirty, and the desk was enclosed in what looked to be bulletproof glass.  A bored looking girl sat behind the desk, reading a magazine, and barely looked up as he entered.  “Can I help you?” She asked disinterestedly.

            Leon thought about just turning around and leaving, but she shot him an annoyed look and it prompted him to speak.  “I’m here to see Ivy.”

            The girl looked at him blankly.  “Ivy?” She repeated.  She snapped her gum loudly.  “I don’t think there’s no Ivy here.” She pushed a button on her phone and said, “Hey Phil, is there an Ivy here?”

            A second’s silence and then, “I don’t think there’s no Ivy here.  Let me check.”

            “No, look, it’s okay,” Leon said adamantly, realising just how stupid he’d been in coming here.

            The girl shrugged.  “Suit yerself.”

            Leon turned to go, but the intercom beeped then and a woman’s voice came over.  “Is someone looking for Ivy?” She asked.  Leon peeked over his shoulder.

            “Yeah, there’s some guy here, but I done told him there weren’t no Ivy,” the receptionist said.  Leon fought the urge to sigh in annoyance. 

            “I’ll be right up,” the voice said.

            The girl smiled at him.  “She’ll be right up,” she parroted.  “Have a seat.”  Leon didn’t think any of the seats would hold him, and didn’t feel like testing them, so he just stood instead.

            At least ten minutes later the single door next to the counter opened and a young woman stepped out.  She couldn’t have been any older than Ivy, blacker than night with a bright white smile and sleek, long hair.  She extended a hand for him to shake.  “I’m Libre,” she said.

            “Leon,” he responded in kind.

            “You’re asking after Ivy?” She prompted, her smile slightly puzzled.

            “Told him there weren’t no Ivy,” the girl at the desk muttered under her breath.

            Libre looked embarrassed.  “Please, Leon, join me in the back.” She took him through the door through an equally depressing hallway.  The lights were flickering and some were out altogether, and the walls had some suspicious, rust coloured stains.  Libre led him into an office.  There was a single desk and two chairs, a dead plant in the window and two bookshelves, and every surface was covered in papers and books.

            “Look, if Ivy isn’t here,” Leon began.

            “Latrice doesn’t deal with most of the agents here,” Libre explained.  “Ivy works out of the main office, in San Francisco, though occasionally we have the pleasure of her presence here, when work requires it.”

            “But last night—”

            “I believe Ivy returned to the United States yesterday evening, late,” Libre said.  Her voice was hesitant, like there was something more but she wasn’t sure she should say it.  “Perhaps, Leon, I could help you with whatever it is that brings you to ACME.”

            Leon scowled at his hands.  He couldn’t believe he’d come.  His instincts used to be so good, but since he’d left LA, he felt he never did anything right anymore.  And now he didn’t even have a job anymore.  All the same…he’d probably saved enough to at least get out of the country…

            “Thanks for your time,” he said, “but I think I’ll be going.”

            “Wait!” Libre exclaimed.  “Please.  I know our office isn’t that impressive, and certainly I’m not a senior detective, like Ivy, but—”

            “It’s not that,” Leon assured her sincerely.

            Libre sighed, looked out the window, then back at him.  “I’ll send an email up to hq,” she told him.  “Do you maybe have a number I could give Ivy?”

            Leon vacillated for a moment, near the door.  All he had to do was walk through it.  “I don’t have a phone,” he told her.  “But…” Stupid, don’t do it Orcot, don’t do it…  He went to her desk, took a piece of paper and pencil and scratched his address down on it.  “Here.  You can give her this.”

            Libre smiled.  “I will of course,” she assured him.  “I hope ACME can help resolve your problem quickly.”

            Somehow, Leon doubted that was likely.

 

            She tapped her fingers on the desk beside her mouse, waiting for the programme to be finished.  Down the hall, she could hear Sara and the Contessa arguing over something.  They weren’t currently loud enough that she had any idea what the argument was about, but she had every confidence that within ten minutes she would know every intimate detail.  She let her head fall back and sighed heavily, contemplating an escape.  If she went now, out the window, chances were no one would notice for a couple hours.  And what, precisely, did that say about her recruitment abilities?

            It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t even remember letting either of the women in her home, and was attempting to work up equal amounts annoyance and anger to approach them when the door burst open.  She couldn’t muster up enough indignation or surprise to snap, so she just rolled her head to the side to see the intruder.

            “Carmen!” Patty shouted, looking frayed around the edges.  “If they don’t stop soon, I’m going to go turn myself in to ACME.  I can’t take much more.”

            Carmen dropped her legs from the desk and stood, stretching.  On the screen, the programme was still crawling along, the progress bar showing it was only twenty percent along.  “Patty, where did you even come from?”

            “It’s Tuesday, Carmen,” she said in a ‘duh’ tone of voice that always grated on Carmen’s nerve.  “Oh!” She peeked over Carmen’s shoulder at the screen.  “New caper?  Please send me!”

            “Patty,” Carmen said delicately, “this isn’t really your area of expertise.”

            “It doesn’t look so tough,” Patty protested.

            “Go…steal…some jewellery, or something,” Carmen said dismissively, flicking her fingers. 

            “Ooh, shiny,” Patty cooed.  “Anything in particular?”

            Carmen considered it for a moment.  “I hear the famous Legaila diamond is on display right now at the British Museum.”  That got rid of Patty for the time being.  It wasn’t that the girl couldn’t be useful sometimes, when Carmen needed a blind follower, or someone who looked young and innocent.  But this crime needed someone good with engineering and logistics.  In fact…

            “Sara, Contessa!” The bickering stopped immediately when Carmen entered the room.  It seemed they had been arguing about the finer points of shoplifting, and who got to keep what of the loot.

            “Carmen,” Contessa said with a pout, clinging a hat to her chest.  “Is my colour.   Sara donna’ even know fashion if it bite her on face.”

            “Ladies,” Carmen purred.  “I need your help.  And I can promise much greater than rewards than those to be found in a department store.”

            “What could you possibly have in mind that would require the two of us to work together, Carmen?” Sara asked, flicking her hand negligently.  Her brow was arched dubiously.

            Carmen smiled beneficently.  “Sara, it is perhaps my most daring theft to date.” That got Sara’s attention, and she leaned in toward Carmen in interest.  “With your skill at engineering, my stealth, and Contessa’s knowledge of her home country and her ability to draw attention to herself, I do not think the three of us could go wrong.”

            “Just what did you have in mind?” Sara asked, looking both suspicious and intrigued.

            “I’m so glad you asked,” Carmen said.  She turned to go back into her office, beckoning them over her shoulder.

            There were several maps lining the walls, but the two largest were aerial views of Venice, Italy and Los Angeles, America, showing in great detail every canal, every bridge, every street, and every highway.  “Ooh,” Contessa squealed, going to the first map, tracing the canals with her fingernail. 

            “What is this?” Sara asked, looking at some of the more detailed maps and schematics.  Her eyes widened when they lit on some of Carmen’s hand done sketches.  “You don’t mean to…”

            Carmen grinned broadly.  “Of course I do,” she responded

            “What?” Contessa demanded.  “What we doin’?”

            “My God, Carmen!” Sara exclaimed.  “Do we really need her?”

            “Sara,” Carmen said, trying to hold on to her patience.  “This is not a two person job.  And the Contessa will do her job very well, I think.”

            “But what it is, Carmen?” Contessa asked, puzzled.

            “Contessa,” Carmen said, “I just need you to look good.”

            The Contessa tossed her hair.  “Carmen, I donna’ look good.  I look fabulous.”

            “And that,” Carmen concluded, “is just what we need.”

 

            “Anyway, I thought you’d want to know,” Josha said, looking shiftily from side to side.  “Since Libre said—”

            “Yeah,” Zack interrupted.  He frowned, mind racing.  “Thanks.  I’ll look into it.”

            “Don’t tell Ivy,” Josha insisted furtively.

            Zack rolled his eyes, making sure the other man didn’t see it.  “Trust me, I won’t say a word.”  He ended the call before Josha could continue. 

            “You talking to yourself in here?” Ivy asked, pushing through the double doors.  Zack jumped, startled.  Ivy shook her head.  “Spaz.  So what’s up?”

            “Uh…” Zack considered a lie, but Ivy knew how to read him.  So he just went with a half-truth.  He waved a dismissive hand.  “Josha…just being a weird stalker, like usual.”

            “God!” Ivy exclaimed.  “What do I have to do to get him off my case?”

            Zack had a few creative ideas that probably would have got him smacked, and he’d like to think he’d wizened up in the past few years working along side his sister, so he kept them to himself.  “So…” He figured the safest course of action was to change the subject altogether.  “How’d the meeting with the DA go?”

            “Argh!” Ivy flung herself in the seat next to Zack, rubbing her forehead.  “That guy is a complete jerk,” she said emphatically.  “And that lawyer!” She shot Zack a dark look and he smiled sympathetically, and patted her on the back.

            “That bad, huh?”

            “She knows they’re all guilty and she delights in getting them off on small details.  She’s as bad as Carmen, herself,” Ivy muttered.

            Zack shrugged.  “Well, for all we know, she could be one of Carmen’s people.”

            Ivy glared at the blank screen in front of her bitterly.  “Yeah, well, even if she was, she’s smart enough that we’d never be able to prove it.” Even though Zack knew she was talking to him, he felt very much like she was somewhere far away in her thoughts.  He’d been feeling like that a lot around her lately, and though it hurt to know they were growing apart, he couldn’t really blame her.  He had Tatyanna, after all.

            “Hey, big sis, don’t let her get to you.  Someday we’ll get Carmen, and then her henchpeople won’t stand a chance,” Zack said, attempting to cheer her.

            Ivy looked at him from the corner of her eye with an incredulous gleam in her eyes.  “Are you for real, Zack?” She demanded.  “The DA would jump at the chance to put Carmen behind bars.  They’d plea-bargain every single one of her men and women to get a chance at her.  And all the same, I bet Isabel’d get her off anyway.”

            “Plea-bargain?  Isabel?” Zack asked, and a moment later, felt infinitely stupid, if Ivy’s look was anything to go off of.

            “You know, Zack, for a genius, you can be really dense sometimes,” Ivy told him, her voice tired.

            Zack was going to retort about geniuses and Ivy’s relative intelligence, but at that moment, the screen before them zapped to life.  They both jumped, Zack seeing Ivy’s shoulders go tense as he felt a familiar rush of adrenaline course through his veins.

            “Hallo deeeeetectives!” The Chief was grinning broadly, but it was a pained expression.  Whatever Carmen was up to, it was big.  “Everyone getting along, enjoying their time off?”

            “Chief, we’ve just finished the last case yesterday evening!” Ivy protested.

            “Good, good,” the Chief continued, ignoring Ivy’s indignation altogether.  “Because do I—well, I mean, Carmen…that is to say, does Carmen ever have a case for you!”

            Zack exchanged looks with his sister, and they both grinned in anticipation.  It was times like this that he knew his fears about them growing apart were unfounded.  No body understood better what it was like—sure, they were supposed to be catching Carmen and they would…but they could really enjoy the pursuit in the meantime.  Everyone else took it so seriously, and maybe it was just a sign of how long they’d been after Carmen, but it had become something of a game between the three of them.

            “So get this, gumshoes, late last night, the Contessa was spotted making a big splash in Venice.  While authorities and press alike were busy booking her, it seems someone made off with all the canals and bridges in the city!”

            “But Chief,” Ivy protested, “Venice is an archipelago!  There are over one hundred tiny islands.  How could Carmen steal the canals?  More water from the sea would just fill up what was taken!” 

            “I wasn’t finished, Ivy!” The Chief snapped somewhat testily.  “Because at the same time, half-way around the world, the canals reappeared—in Los Angeles.”

            “What?” Ivy shouted.  “How is that even possible?  Chief!”      

            If the Chief had shoulders, Zack figured he’d be shrugging them just about now.  As it was, he simply pursed his lips in a manner that suggested he couldn’t be any further help until they thought up something themselves.  “Its Carmen,” he said simply, with that faint hint of pride and wonder he held for his former protégée.

            “So,” Ivy said, working things out with a frown on her face.  “What are we supposed to do?  I mean, if the canals showed up in Los Angeles, I’m guessing she put the roads that were there in Venice.”

            “Correctomundo,” the Chief exclaimed gaily.  Zack couldn’t really see what he had to be so cheerful about.

            “And what are we supposed to do?” Ivy demanded.  “We’re supposed to find the stolen items, aren’t we?  I don’t know about Zack here, but I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to move a canal!  Let alone half-way across the world.”

            Zack was actually contemplating that very thing, but he hadn’t come up with any decent idea yet.  He bit his lip, trying to concentrate on the problem at hand.

            “Well, Ivy, call me crazy, but I was thinking, if Carmen did this, she can put it straight again.  So all you need to do is catch up with her and voilà!  Case closed,” the Chief said simply.

            “That easy, huh?” Zack remarked dully.

            “Come on, detectives!  Where’s that good ole’ crime fighting spirit?!”

            Ivy and Zack exchanged looks again.  “You wanna start in Italy or California?” Ivy asked, giving him that ‘might as well give it a shot’ look.

            “Actually…” A thought began to form in Zack’s mind, and now that Ivy was giving him a curious look, he couldn’t back down.  “Why don’t we split up?” You go on to California and I’ll head over to Italy, and we can meet back here in a couple hours and compare notes?”

            “Uh…alright…” Ivy seemed puzzled by this, but didn’t press the matter.

            “Terrific, clue-busters,” the Chief said excitedly.  “Ivy, Armando is already at the scene, and Zack, I do believe Jasmine will be meeting up with you within the hour!  Go get her!”

            As ever, the Chief’s enthusiasm wasn’t as invigorating as he might have imagined.  Ivy shrugged at her brother and said, “How about a C-5 corridor to Los Angeles?”  She was gone within a few moments and the Chief looked expectantly at Zack.

            “Actually,” Zack said, tapping a button on his wrist.  “Open a C-5 corridor to ACME headquarters, Johannesburg, South Africa,” Zack ordered.  The Chief’s jaw dropped in protest, but the corridor already opened and Zack stepped in before the Chief could say anything.

            “All right, you wily troublemaker,” the Chief’s voice echoed in his ears.  “You’re on your way from San Francisco, USA to Johannesburg, South Africa.” The map spread out before Zack’s eyes, and was overlaid with pictures of the area.  “The largest city in South Africa, Johannesburg is the home to O.R. Tambo International Airport, the largest and busiest airport in Africa, serving as a gateway to intercontinental travel, the Mandela Museum, and most famously, the Cradle of Humanity—home to the first near-complete early Australopithecine skeleton…and most importantly, not even REMOTELY ITALY!  Zack, what on Earth are you doing?”

            The C-5 dumped Zack ungracefully in a dingy, dimly lit room on rather dirty looking linoleum.  “Ugh…I totally don’t mind leaving Ivy to be the South African liaison.”

            A woman snapping gum was looking at him wide-eyed from behind a bulletproof screen.  Zack smiled sheepishly.  “Can I speak to Libre, please?” He asked sweetly.  The girl looked dubious, but before she could argue, the Chief’s screen snapped to life in front of her.

            “Zachary!  Carmen, remember her?  The one you’re supposed to be following to Italy, which, is, oh, I don’t know, significantly north of here?”

            “Look, Chief,” Zack said, and stalled, shifting from foot to foot, unsure of what to say.  Technically, this was his territory and Zack was totally stepping all over it, even if the Chief didn’t know yet.

            “What’s going on out he—oh!” Libre stepped to the side quickly, holding open the door behind her.  “Zack, what are you doing here?  Will you get in before someone sees?”

            Zack hurried inside and the Chief followed him, all but vibrating with his irritation.  “Would someone care to explain to me what’s going on here?”

            Libre shot the Chief a harried look before scowling at Zack.  “Are you trying to draw attention to us?” She went down the hall at an almost breakneck speed and Zack ran to keep up with her until they were firmly behind her office door.

            “What’s that all about,” Zack said, gesturing with his chin toward the office.

            “Look, you can maybe get away with all that showy stuff in America, but its different down here.  Most of South Africa thinks of us as a joke, and it is easier to let them believe that,” Libre said in a harsh whisper.  “The rest of ACME has a hard enough time cleaning up after you and Ivy without the lesser agents making a mess.”

            The Chief, who looked like he’d been about to go into his own diatribe, shut his mouth with a snap.  Zack looked between him and Libre in confusion.  “What do you mean?”

            “Using the C-5 corridor whenever it pleases you, no matter who sees!  And you, Chief, just popping up whenever and wherever you please!  I suppose I shouldn’t have to remind you that a lot of ACME technology is top secret for a reason.” She gestured around herself at the drab appearance of her office.  “This office suits me and our clients just fine.  They don’t ever need to know about the lab beneath ground to have their cases satisfactorily concluded.  And now I don’t have any idea what I’m going to say to poor Latrice.  She looked like she was having an apoplectic fit.”

            Zack had the sense to be abashed and shrank into as small a ball as possible in his chair.  “Sorry,” he murmured.

            Libre glared at him.  “I guess Josha just had to call you.”  Zack was pretty sure his guilty expression gave him away better than any words could have.  “I should just kick you out of here.”  Zack could have pointed out that he was the senior ranking agent between the two of them, but he knew Libre well enough, and she was a lot like his sister, and would probably kick his ass for pulling the rank card on her.  Instead, he remained silent.  “Alright,” she snapped at last.  She ripped a piece of paper off the tablet on her desk, scribbled something on it and threw it at him. 

            “Is anyone going to clue me in on what this is all about?” the Chief asked, scowling fiercely.  He was bobbing in place, cheeks red, eyes narrowed.  His eyes went glassy suddenly, and Zack realised Ivy must be communicating with him.  He shot an apologetic look at Libre and dashed out of the office while the Chief was distracted, leaving the explanations up to her.

 

            Leon had packed his bags quickly.  It wasn’t a difficult task, seeing as how he had a grand total of two of them—one for his clothing, one for everything else.  He’d got pretty good on living on very little.  He had barely enough money to get him out of the country and maybe even out of the continent, but it didn’t make any sense to linger.  Another week’s rent would set him back significantly, and it wasn’t like he was going to find any legitimate job in the city.  He looked at the letter he’d started to Chris—unfinished, as most of them tended to be—he never got a reply; of course…he never stayed in one place long enough.  But it made him feel a little less lonely to know Chris was reading his letters.  He finished this one quickly and sealed it in an envelope and set about looking for a stamp.

            A knock on the door startled him, and immediately set his heart beating rapidly.  He had yet to hear from Graves about his abrupt departure, and had been expecting him, or perhaps even Svede, to show up at the door any moment to have a ‘talk’ with him.  It wasn’t that Leon couldn’t handle himself, but he wasn’t at all looking forward to any conflict.  He hesitated a moment before opening the door, tensing all over, ready for a fight, and was surprised to see a short, blond kid glaring up at him from under floppy bangs.

            “Er…” Leon said, “Can I help you?”

            The kid pushed past him into his living room, and Leon was so surprised he didn’t say anything to stop him.  He left the door open and turned to face the boy.  “This place is a dump,” he said blandly.

            “Uh, wasn’t aware I had anyone to impress,” Leon said dimly.  “Can I help you?” He repeated.

            “You American?” He asked, and then continued without waiting for a response.  “What brings you to South Africa?”

            Leon could tell the kid was trying to be tough and intimidating, which could have been endearing if he hadn’t just barged into Leon’s apartment.  “What is this about?” He snapped, hands on his hips.

            “What do you want with Ivy Parker?” He asked, eyes narrowed.

            “Who…you mean the ACME detective?” Leon asked, bewildered.

            “Don’t play dumb.  I know you were asking after her.”

            “I’m not playing dumb,” Leon protested, indignant.  “I just admitted to knowing who you were talking about.” The kid was a little dense.  “I met her at a bar.” The kid’s eyes widened in surprise and disbelief.  “We talked a bit.  She gave me her card.” He was indulging the kid, and he couldn’t say why, except maybe he felt a little sorry for him.  He couldn’t have been more than eighteen, and a girl like Ivy was way out of his league.  Hell, Ivy was out of Leon’s league.

            “What bar?  Why was she there?  What did you talk about?” The questions were thrown out in rapid succession, with no breath in between for Leon to respond.  He arched a brow.  “And who the hell are you, anyway?”

            “I could ask you the same question?” Leon ribbed.

            The boy puffed up his chest.  “I’m Zack Parker.  Ivy’s brother.  And I want to know what your intentions are.”

            Leon could stop the burst of laughter the words provoked.  “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

            Zack bristled.  “What’s so funny?”

            “Look, kid,” Leon said, between bouts of laughter.  “Ivy said she was here on a case.  We had a beer.  Talked about work, you know.  I don’t have any intentions where she’s concerned.”

            Zack looked dubious, but relaxed a little.  “Then why’d you talk to Libre about her?” He pursued.

            “We…” Leon didn’t know what to say.  The same as with Libre, he suddenly felt foolish for having ever considered Ivy’s offer.  “It’s not important.”

            Zack looked ready to press the issue, but his watch beeped impatiently.  Leon frowned at that, and put two and two together.  So, the kid was an ACME agent, too.  And then, before Leon’s eyes, a large purple screen blinked into view, apparently projected from the kid’s watch.  “Zack, Venice, now,” the cartoonish head exclaimed.

            “Er,” Leon remarked.

            “But Chief!” Zack protested.

            “We. Will. Talk. About. This. Later,” the head said between his teeth.  “Venice!”  Zack hung his head and trudged out the front door.  Leon stared in disbelief as the screen bobbed after him for a moment, as if making sure he was actually going, then came back to rest in front of Leon.

            “Er,” Leon repeated, staring.

            “Leon, right?” The head asked.  Leon nodded dumbly.  “I’m the C.H.I.E.F.—Computerized Holographic Imaging Educational Facilitator—head of the ACME agency.  Libre and Josha tell me you were looking after Ivy.”

            It took a minute for Leon to adjust, but only a minute.  He’d seen plenty of weird things thanks to D, and even more since leaving in pursuit of the man.  At least there was a technologically plausible explanation for this.  “Yeah,” he said, swallowing.

            “Ivy’s a bit swamped with her current case,” the Chief said, smiling as if at a joke only he understood.  “Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

            Being evasive around other agents was one thing, but if Leon was really serious about doing this, there was no point in lying to the man…er…thing, in charge.  It was crunch time, and Leon swallowed the weird anxiety he had over the whole situation and nodded.

            “Actually, sir,” Leon began, feeling massively out of his depth.  “I think you can.  You see, Ivy and I were discussing our respective jobs, and it just so turns out-”

            “Leon Orcot,” the Chief interrupted.  His eyes were glancing at the ceiling, but Leon could tell he was not actually looking at it.  “Won the Treasures of Knowledge scholarship in 1994.  Expressed little interest in joining ACME.  Turned down recruitment in 1998 and 2001.  Joined the LAPD in 1998.  Became youngest detective in LAPD history at the age of twenty-three in 2000…” The Chief looked down at Leon abruptly.  “Impressive resume.”

            “Thanks,” Leon said, looking at the floor in mild embarrassment.  He didn’t like having his accomplishments paraded before him as such.  It made him feel like a kid, and he felt the blush up his cheeks and behind his ears.

            “Would it be safe to assume that a third job offer would not similarly be refused?” The Chief asked, with some humour.

            “Pretty much,” Leon agreed, grinning in spite of himself.

            The Chief glanced around the room, his screen shifting this way and that.  He took in the bags and the hastily cleaning job Leon had done.  “Going somewhere?”

            “No where important,” Leon admitted.

            “Then might I suggest we make our way to headquarters before I’m missed?” The Chief prompted.

            “Lead the way,” Leon said, waving his hand.

 

            Venice was in a massive state of disorder.  The streets of Los Angeles had indeed replaced the canals, and Zack still wasn’t sure how Carmen had kept the lagoon waters from spilling into the empty space.  The bridges were completely gone as well, making travel nearly impossible.  Some people were using ladders to lower themselves from buildings and streets to the empty canals, but travel was cumbersome.  Others were travelling over rooftop, but most people were stranded in their homes or on their streets.  Gondolas and motorboats looked desolate on the dry Los Angeles streets.  Zack didn’t imagine the vehicles in LA looked any better on the canals.

            Sometimes, Zack really thought Carmen was insane, but at least there usually seemed to be some motive involved in her plots, generally having to do with gain.  He didn’t know what she could have gained from all of this, unless she was just after some perverse amusement.  And, Zack supposed, that might just be it.  All the same, here was, on his hands and knees in an empty canal bed, searching for some clue as to what Carmen was really up to.

            A sharp whistle broke his concentration, and Zack sighed.  Sometimes knowing over twenty languages meant hearing things he really didn’t want to…like that various catcalls and obscene offers thrown his way.  He knew his position was a bit…questionable, but honestly, he was trying to do his job.  “Ehi! Cessarlo. Sono un agente di ACME, d’accordo?”

            “Oh, Zack!” Exclaimed a familiar voice, “but how can I help it when you present such a nice target?”

            Zack blushed all the way to his roots and got up on his knees, turning to face Jasmine.  The older detective was standing on the bank above him, hands on her knees, grinning broadly.  “Leave me alone,” he muttered.

            “Found anything interesting?” She asked, looking around for a moment before finding a handhold and swinging herself over the edge.  Though embarrassed, Zack was still a gentleman and leapt to his feet, helping her down with his arms around her hips.  He eased her gently to the ground and Jasmine gave him a stunning smile when she was on her feet.  “Am I going to have to tell Tatyanna what happened here?”

            Zack coloured again.  “Fine.  Next time I can let you fall,” he snapped.

            Jasmine laughed in a way that reminded him of Ivy.  “Oh, don’t be sour, Zack, I was just teasing.”

            “Yeah, well, I’m not in a teasing mood,” he told her shortly.  “I don’t know why Carmen would have done this!”

            “Because she’s a thief, and she likes to do things that everyone else says is impossible just to prove she’s smarter than anyone else,” Jasmine offered in a ‘duh’ tone of voice.

            “Maybe,” Zack allowed.  “But Carmen isn’t usually destructive, and what she’s done could cause considerable damage to this city.  Look around.” He gestured at the lower level of the city, usually submerged.  “Venice was built on wooden piles.”

            Jasmine frowned.  “That doesn’t seem like such a good idea…I always thought it was stone…how is wood suppose to hold up so long?”

            “The wood doesn’t decay underwater, because there’s no oxygen.  So it has survived just fine.  But now, with all the water gone, who knows how quickly the wood will begin to collapse.  It’s already completely waterlogged.  I can’t believe the piles aren’t buckling under the stress,” Zack explained.

            “Well, that’s not quite reassuring,” Jasmine told him.  “So what do we do?”

            Zack shrugged.  “I have no idea how to get the canals back here, but we need to find out what Carmen did to keep the sea and lagoon at bay, and stop that so the streets are refilled…and maybe find her clue in the process.”

            “Good ideas, and all…but where do we start?”

            “Well,” Zack said slowly, thinking it through.  “There are three entrances to the lagoon from the sea, the Lido Inlet, Malamocco Inlet and Chioggia Inlet.  We should check all three.”

            “Do you think she might have somehow got a hold of the schematics for the MOSE project?” Jasmine asked, as they began to walk.

            “What’s that?” Zack asked, frowning.

            “I think it basically translates to Experimental Electromechanical Module,” Jasmine said.  She shook her head.  “I’m not so great at Italian.  We’re stretched kinda thin this case.”

“But what does it do?” Zack prompted.

“Well, I think it is mostly defunct now, but there was talk of it a few years ago.  To protect Venice from floods and storms, there would be inflatable barriers at the three entrances to the lagoon.  They’d stay on the banks unless there was a threat, and then they would be deployed to block the entrances altogether,” Jasmine explained. 

Zack was embarrassed for himself and for ACME that no one had mentioned this earlier.  “Sounds like a pretty good lead to me.  Why’s it defunct?”

“I think because of the expense.  Most scholars think that Venice isn’t sinking any more, and there are other, cheaper, though less eco-friendly ideas that could be implemented if the sinking were to resume.” Jasmine shrugged.  “Its sad, but I guess the government would rather cut costs than worry about a few endangered species.”

That made Zack uncomfortable, so he let the discussion die between them.  The nearest inlet was Lido Inlet, and the walk took them a good fifteen minutes.  As it came into view, it was like standing on the edge of the world.  Ahead of them the sea stretched out, seemingly infinitely, and some invisible barrier held its waves at bay.  Zack was more than a little nervous on the approach, sure that at any moment the waters would topple forward, but they never did.  He sighed in relief as they reached the wall of water.

Jasmine made a sound of disbelief and reached out.  Zack watched intently, waiting for anything, but her hand never touched the water, and Jasmine made a startled noise and drew back her hand quickly.  “What is it?” Zack demanded.

“It stung,” Jasmine said, shaking her hand.

Zack, somewhere along the way, had picked up some of his sister’s curiosity, and had to see for himself.  He would have described it more as a tickle.  It wasn’t painful, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable, either.  “Some sort of force field?” he pondered out loud.

“Is Carmen an alien, now?” Jasmine asked, pursing her lips in amusement.

Zack scowled.  “Look, there’s been some research with plasma walls and vector fields.  Leave it up to Sara Bellum to figure out what no one else could.”  Jasmine looked like she wasn’t buying it, and Zack wasn’t entirely sure he was either.  He just hoped Ivy was doing better than he was on her end.

“Come on.  I gotta meet Ivy back at HQ soon,” Zack said.  “I still wanna check out the other inlets.”

“Why don’t you head toward Malamocco and I’ll take the Chioggia,” Jasmine offered.  “I’m supposed to report to ACME in Rome within the hour.  I’ll get one of the agents there to give me a lift.”

“You’ll call and let me know if you see anything?” Zack asked.  He was hesitant to trust anyone but Ivy with something as big as this, but Jasmine was smart, and she’d been helpful in the past.

They parted ways and Zack began to follow the wall of water southwest.  He didn’t know how far the distance was, but it became a moot point when he spotted a familiar purple and blue jumpsuit in the distance.  He began to run and quickly the colours resolved themselves into two V.I.L.E. henchmen.  Zack wasn’t one for stealth, and besides, there was no where to hide, though he did wish Ivy and her martial arts experience were around to help him out.

“Hey!” he shouted, and the two men froze, and then began to confer with one another.  Zack put on a burst of speed, but the men just chuckled, climbing on two motorbikes.

“A gift from Carmen,” one of them said in an Italian accent, and threw a wrapped package at Zack as they sped off.  Zack leapt to catch it, and fumbled with the shiny surface for a second.

The card on top read, don’t get the blues, detectives.  Your suspicious minds will Biel put to a rest.  Zack frowned and ripped open the package.  Inside was a strange, threadlike spool of rough, sticky material.  Zack freed his fingers and rubbed them on his jeans, pulling a face.  He turned to where the henchmen had been messing with an oblong box.

Zack pressed the button on his wrist and a moment later the Chief responded.  “Yeeessss, Zachary,” he said, clearly still annoyed with Zack from earlier.

“Think I found how Carmen is keeping the waters from filling the lagoon,” Zack said.  “But I think this is a job better left to the engineers, and until we can figure out how to get the LA streets back where they belong.”

The Chief looked grudgingly proud.  “Alright.  I guess you can come back.  But if Ivy isn’t happy with you, you only have yourself to blame,” he said loftily.

“What? Why wouldn’t Ivy be happy with me?” Zack demanded.

The Chief gave him a superior look.  “I’m just warning you,” he said, as a C-5 corridor opened before Zack.  Warily, Zack stepped inside.

 

            “Suhara…hey, haven’t heard from you in a couple days.  Call me.”

            “Suhara, look, I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but you could at least tell me so I can tell you to get the hell over it.”

            “Suhara, I’m starting to get worried.  I’m coming over there after work tonight.  See you.”

            Suhara erased Ilsey’s last message from his cell phone with a sigh and turned it off.  He hadn’t intentionally ignored her calls, but he’d been so busy with Carmen he’d hardly thought of anything else.  She was endlessly fascinating, and the two of them could spend hours on end debating literature or working on hypothetical problems.

            They’d hardly left the apartment since Suhara had adopted her several days before, only occasionally going out for groceries or on educational pursuits.  It had struck Suhara that she would need schooling, but Carmen was far ahead of children her own age, and he figured it would be better to school her from home, so that she could get the special attention she required.  As such, it could wait.

            “Suhara-san?” Carmen said.  She had been calling him Master, which made Suhara suspicious and uncomfortable, and when he’d starting talking about turning Count D over to the authorities, Carmen had calmed him by referring to him by his family name instead.

            “Yes, child?”

            “Is someone else coming to stay?” There was an odd petulance in her voice.  He’d never known Carmen to be that way in their partnership, but now she was oddly territorial and it was infinitely more difficult to ascertain her motives.

            “Ilsey is a friend of mine from ACME.  She’s going to visit,” Suhara explained.

            Carmen sniffed haughtily.  “That’s very fine of you to tell me now.  I suppose my company isn’t enough?”

            Suhara gave her an odd look.  “That isn’t what I meant at all, Carmen, and you should know it,” he said gently.  “Ilsey is a good friend, and I enjoy her company.”  Carmen didn’t respond to this, and instead, locked herself in her room.

            For a long time, Suhara pondered the reasons for Carmen’s behaviour, and nothing he thought of made any sense.  Surely she couldn’t be jealous of someone stopping by for a few hours when he’d spent every waking hour with her since they’d met.  And then, it occurred to Suhara how this entire situation might appear to Ilsey.  She’d come expecting to find him housing a cat, at the very most, not a child.

            Even as he was considering this, the doorbell rang, and Suhara almost jumped out of his skin.  He glanced at the clock—just after five in the afternoon.  Ilsey must have been working an overnight or early morning shift.  He glanced nervously at Carmen’s door, but there was no sound from within, so he went to allow Ilsey in.

            “Suhara!” Ilsey exclaimed when she saw him, abandoning propriety altogether and throwing her arms around his neck.  “What the hell have you been up to?” She asked, her voice soft near his ear.

            Suhara went still and Ilsey seemed to realise where she was and whom she was hugging and dropped her arms, stepping back rapidly, giving him a crooked smile.  “Sorry,” she muttered.  She stepped into the apartment so Suhara could close the door and looked around. 

            The place was something of a mess.  Carmen’s games and toys littered most of the surfaces.  It wasn’t that she didn’t clean up after herself, but Suhara had purchased so much there just wasn’t a place for all of it.  “What’s all this?” Ilsey asked curiously, stepping toward the table and running her fingers over the pieces of one of the games.

            Suhara hurried over, closing the lid.  “Nothing important.  What can I do for you, Ilsey?”

            Ilsey’s blue eyes narrowed and her lips quirked.  “What do you mean, what can you do for me?” She asked.  “I came because you haven’t answered one of my calls for days, and I was worried about you.”

            “Well, I’m fine.”

            “I can see that,” Ilsey snapped, starting to grow angry.  “Seriously, Suhara, what the hell?”

            “I’m just busy, that’s all,” Suhara said evasively.

            “Busy?” Ilsey echoed.  “Doing what?” She looked around them and Suhara followed her gaze, knew when it lit upon the dishes from lunch.  A grin suddenly crossed her face.  “Suhara, you dog!  You take up my suggestion after all?  Is she still here?”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Suhara snapped, tensing all over.  He didn’t know why, but he just knew it wasn’t a good idea to let Ilsey know about Carmen.

            “I bet you don’t.  What’s she like?  Are all these games hers?  Is she younger than you?” Ilsey demanded with humour in her voice.

            “There isn’t any woman!”

            Ilsey’s eyes widened only a little.  “A man, then?”

            “That isn’t funny,” Suhara growled.  “There isn’t anyone.”

            “What are you getting so bent out of shape about?” Ilsey asked, her voice rising in pitch and volume.

            “I just don’t know why you think you can come storming in here, making accusations about my sexuality, and—”

            “Are you for real?” Ilsey interrupted.  She made a sound of disbelief.  “I was…I was worried about you, and if you think you’re allaying any of my fears, boy are you ever wrong.  Of course, I’m so pissed off I don’t think I care so much right now.”

            “Good!” Suhara shouted back.  “Then why don’t you leave?”

            The hurt in Ilsey’s eyes was easy to see, but Suhara couldn’t care.  “Fine…alright.” She paused, turned around, walked to the door then turned back around.  “Fuck you, Suhara.”

            Before she opened the door, Carmen’s did, and she slipped out of the thin crack.  She looked at Ilsey for a long moment before parading over to Suhara, coming to stand at his side.  Her skirt brushed his calf.  Ilsey frowned at them both and Suhara didn’t know how to make the situation better.

            “What’s all the shouting about?” Carmen asked, with eyes wiser than her years fixed upon Suhara’s face.

            “It’s alright now.  Ilsey is just leaving,” he said.  “Aren’t you?” He directed the last at Ilsey.  “This isn’t any of your business.”

            Ilsey opened her mouth as if she was going to argue further, but she just frowned and shook her head and left, slamming the door.

            “I don’t think she’ll be bothering you any more,” Carmen said decisively.  She sounded very pleased with herself, and for just a second, Suhara realised what had just transpired.  He couldn’t believe the way he’d treated Ilsey.  But then Carmen reached her arms out to be lifted up and asked to play a game and Suhara figured his apology to Ilsey could wait.  He had to see to Carmen, first.

 

He’d been kinda dubious about the whole thing, but watching brother and sister go at it was pretty damn amusing, Leon had to admit.  Apparently the Chief believed in instant immersion training, and as such, assigned Leon to work alongside Ivy and Zack on their current case.  Leon hadn’t got many details on just what that case was before Ivy had arrived back at headquarters, followed closely by Zack, and then they both saw him and a few things came out and there was a lot of shouting.

So far Leon had been able to ascertain that Carmen Sandiego had stolen the canals in Venice, and he was still trying to figure out what that was a euphemism for.  Mostly, however, the siblings were arguing about what was and what was not Zack’s business, where Ivy’s romantic life was concerned.  Leon had, at first, felt like interjecting that he wasn’t interested in Ivy’s romantic life.  But then he rationalised that he liked the use of all his limbs, thank you very much, and Ivy looked very dangerous right now, so he just sat back and watched.

Carmen Sandiego wasn’t really why Leon had joined ACME, but he supposed it wasn’t an awful place to start.  He could do this case, and then he could explain to the Chief that he was more interested in the serious crimes ACME dealt with.  But first, he had to wait these two out.  Apparently, he wasn’t the only one getting fed up with the interaction.  The Chief shot him an exasperated look and puffed his bangs with a heavy sigh.

“As simply fascinating as all this is,” the Chief said sarcastically.  “Does anyone remember the case we’re on?”

Ivy glared long and hard at her brother, but took a step back and said.  “Yeah, Chief.  I’ve been going over the clue Carmen left.”  She had a small, ceramic figurine of three alley cat sitting on a fencing yowling at the moon.  It had come with a card that Leon had memorised by heart, now, don’t become jaded, detectives, and don’t see black; before long you’ll have unravelled the plot—just be careful not to get tangled up in the process!

This, Leon totally didn’t get.  Granted, he’d only been at ACME HQ for about two hours, but in that time he’d observed plenty to get a good handle on the situation.  The way Zack and Ivy talked, this thing with Carmen was like a game.  Clues and traps and teasing and bad puns.  Zack had arrived with clue in hand as well, and Leon figured the quickest way to sort things out would be to put all the clues together and discuss them, but the siblings were violently angry with one another and guarding their individual clues one from the other.

“Well?” Zack snapped, approaching Leon.  “Got anything to add?”

Leon narrowed his eyes.  He was not about to start taking shit from some kid just because that kid had a higher rank.  Zack might have been at ACME longer, but Leon had been a detective longer, period, and had the education to back it up.  Besides, it seemed like both Ivy and the Chief were on his side.  “I suppose I would get over my weird sister complex, quit the petty squabbling and get on the goddamned case.”

The Chief turned away quickly to hide a smile and Ivy burst into laughter.  Zack regarded with all with hurt and disgust.  “Fine.  You’ve got your clue; I have mine.  You also have your new partner,” he said, stepping up to Ivy.  “So I’m going to go work with Jasmine and Tatyanna, and we’ll figure this one out ourselves!”

After he’d gone, there was silence in the large room.  Leon shot a sheepish look at Ivy.  “Sorry about that.”

Ivy waved a dismissive hand.  “Ah, he’s a teenager.  He’ll get over it.  Besides, you’re right.  It will be a lot easier to concentrate without his constant nagging.”

The point made that he was a teenager just made Leon all the more curious about things.  He’d thought Zack looked young, and now it was confirmed.  But the Chief had said Ivy and Zack had been working on the Carmen case for over five years, now.  How had some pipsqueak got in on that?  Certainly he could understand working hard and getting ahead of the game—that’s what he’d done in the police force.  But if he was doing his math correctly, that meant Zack had been twelve and Ivy roughly sixteen when they’d begun their pursuit of Carmen, and no matter what anyone said, twelve was pretty damn young to be working on such an important case.

“You okay?” Ivy prompted, taking a seat across from him.

“Just a little…” Leon trailed off, hesitant to name it.  “This place takes some getting used to.”

“Tell me about it,” Ivy said with a crooked smile.  She probably had no idea how gorgeous she was, if her tomboyish mannerisms were anything to go by.  “I first visited ACME when I was eight.  That was back when Carmen was still a detective, back when ACME was still in its heyday.” She acquired a wistful expression.  “My parents are involved a lot in charity, and they had donated a good deal to the ACME retirement fund, and I had expressed my interest in being a detective someday, so they got me a tour…” She trailed off.

“Anyway…” Ivy shook her head.  “Matter at hand.  Chief, how’re things in Venice?”

“Ellie Trishan and Sy Ence are working to disable the barriers Carmen is using to hold the water at bay,” the Chief said, and grinned at his own pun.  “Meanwhile, emergency workers are beginning to bring water directly from the sea to fill the lagoon.”

Ivy frowned.  “Things in LA are going a lot more smoothly, if you can imagine.  Most people are getting around fine, if not dry, on foot, and a lot of opportunists have filled the streets with small boats to make some quick cash working as taxies.  But we still need to do something about the LA streets in Venice before they’re completely submerged.”

Leon snorted.  “You know how unbelievable this all sounds, right?  Like something out of a bad sci-fi movie, or something.”

“Oh?” Ivy pinned him with a knowing look.  “Then why do you seem so okay with it?”

Leon scowled.  “I…I’ve seen some pretty weird things myself, I guess.”

Ivy grinned.  “Now that sounds interesting.  After this case is over, you’ll definitely have to share.  In the meantime…” She fingered the statue, tossing it from hand to hand idly.  “What does this have to do with anything?”

“Well,” Leon began slowly, totally out of his depth.  “She’s already stolen the streets from two major cities, right?  And those are alley cats.  So maybe she’s planning on stealing a famous alley, or something.”

Ivy frowned.  “Chief, can you bring up any famous alleys, or alley cats.”

“Alleys!” The Chief exclaimed.  “Also know as lanes, snickets, ginnels, twittens and jittys, the alleyway was traditionally used as a service road for the delivery of coal into homes.  Now all over the world, from Stockholm to Melbourne, Annapolis to Amsterdam, alleys are used as major throughways for transportation, or tossing out the trash.  Famous alleys include Printer’s Alley in Nashville, Tennessee.  Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley in J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter novels.  Or there is Alley Oop, a comic strip from the 1930s and a play in basketball.

“And what better inhabitant for your very own alley, than the alley cat.  These ferocious, ferial, fence-loving felines have fidgeted their furry fannies into our hearts, and can be found in such famous examples as Thomas O’Malley the Alley Cat from Disney’s Aristocats, a 1984 Atari game, and the titular character of the comic strip Ollie the Alley Cat.”

            Ivy frowned and shook her head, nibbling on a pen.  “Well,” Leon said, wondering why this should be so difficult, “she can’t be stealing fake streets from Harry Potter, and who would really care if she stole some game or DVD?”

            The Chief and Ivy exchanged a look that made Leon feel really stupid.  “Actually, with Carmen, you can’t ever rule anything out because it seems impossible,” Ivy explained delicately.

            “How can she steal something that isn’t real?” Leon demanded.  He was uncomfortably reminded of sitting on D’s couch.

            “Look, what we need to figure out is how this statue figures in with the letter,” Ivy said, brows furrowed in concentration.  She mouthed the words as she read.

            Leon scowled and tapped his finger on the tabletop. “Isn’t there any way we could look for evidence at the scene?  I mean, this clue thing…it’s like letting her take control.”

            “Well, Leon, she kinda is in control,” Ivy said blandly.  “I mean, she steals things, we react.”

            And that really, really was not Leon’s shtick.  “Maybe we should work on becoming proactive, then,” he argued.  “Letting her have all this control, you’ll never catch up.”

            “Maybe not,” Ivy said with a heavy sigh.  “But at least we can get back the things she steals.”

            “Look, if we know she’s going to steal a famous alley, why not use what the Chief has told us and get people to all these locations?”

            “Because it isn’t that simple, Leon,” Ivy snapped.  “I told you, none of these things fit with the letter.”

            Leon fought the urge to throw his hands up in the hair in frustration.  Instead, he gritted his teeth and said, “maybe something in your brother’s clue could help.”

            Ivy flipped her hair over her shoulder, giving him a dubious look.  “Zack can deal with that clue on his own.” She sighed again.  “Leon, I know this may seem strange to a newcomer, but you’ll get used to it.  We’ve tried catching Carmen by setting traps.  It’s never worked out for us.  The closest we’ve ever got is by going along with what she gives us.”

            It occurred to Leon that working for ACME, at least by chasing after Carmen, wasn’t much more productive than chasing after D, except that ACME actually recovered the stolen items a fair amount of the time.  He’d asked the Chief about other cases, and he wasn’t overly surprised to find that given the broad reach of the agency there were thousands of cases from the mundane (getting information for divorce cases) to missing persons, to murder cases the police were unable to crack.  Leon had expressed his interest in these others, but the Chief said he should become familiarised with ACME through a Carmen case, first.  That hardly made sense, but Leon wasn’t doing anything better with his time, so he hadn’t argued.

            Only now…

            “Okay, well, while you’re waiting for Carmen to hand you the location on a silver platter, I’m going to check out the rest of this place,” Leon said.  He looked at the Chief, to see if he’d protest, but he just looked mildly amused and annoyed.  Since no one made a move to stop him, Leon left the room and was faced with a long, winding series of identical silver hallways.

            When he had arrived with the Chief, Leon had been lead down the halls at a breakneck pace, and now he had no idea where to start.  Still, he wasn’t going to turn back around.  The family feud was amusing enough, until it started getting in the way of actual work.  Frustrated, Leon shoved his hands in his pockets and took the hall straight ahead.  As soon as he turned the first corner, the building seemed to come to life.  Agents bustled up and down, back and forth, chatting to each other and into phones, carrying papers and weird gadgets and one guy had a tent and sleeping bag, oddly enough.  It made Leon smile.

            Everyone he passed seemed to know who Leon was, which was bemusing, to say the least, and several people paused to shake his hand or offer him greeting.  He poked his head in many an open door, mostly finding private offices, though he stumbled across a cafeteria, two sets of restrooms and a nursery.  Finally, he was stopped by a young, pleasant looking man in cargo pants and a hoodie, who would have looked out of place had Leon not already met Zack and Ivy.  It appeared ACME was very lax in their dress code.

            “Can I help you find something?” He asked.

            Leon shrugged.  “Just trying to get the lay of the land.”

            The kid nodded.  “You’re the new guy, from the LAPD, right?  You should check out the forensics lab here.”

            It seemed as good a place to start as any, so Leon allowed him to be led away.  The kid turned out to be Thom, who was part of the operations crew, and in charge of research.  Not for the first time since having met Ivy, Leon had to wonder how his life might have run differently had he taken ACME up on their offer when he was still in college.  But even as he thought it, a familiar, sick feeling took up residence in his stomach at the thought of having never met D.  Thom looked at him in concern and Leon forced himself to dismiss the sensation.

            The forensic lab was buzzing with activity.  Actually, Leon didn’t know if it was fair to call it a lab, when it was actually more like a wing, with a long hallway, off which to either side there were several rooms, each with unique equipment.

            “The police departments would love to have this kind of technology at their fingertips,” Thom explained.

            That made Leon slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything.  He came into this thing knowing that ACME, while highly cooperative with police all over the world, was a separate entity.

            “Anyway, Chloe mentioned an interest in meeting you.  Have no idea why they put you on the Carmen team, but Chloe is dying to have you on her team.  She’s been fighting with the Chief about it all morning,” Thom said.

            “Jesus, word travels quick around here,” Leon muttered.  “Who’s Chloe?  What’s her team?”

            “Chloe is in charge of the violent crimes division.  Actually, she and Walter, head of narc, have both expressed an interest, but Walter knew better than to go head to head with Chloe,” Thom explained.

            Though he’d been a good cop, Leon couldn’t imagine people fighting over him.  Let alone people who couldn’t have known about him for more than a few hours…He could just imagine D pulling a face and making some disparaging comment to take him down a peg or two, but Leon couldn’t help but grin at the idea of being some hot commodity.

            “So, anyway, I thought I should introduce you,” Thom was saying.

            There was an office at the end of the hall with the name Chloe Peters on a brass plaque.  Thom knocked and a voice bid them enter.  Chloe was probably the oldest person Leon had seen so far at ACME, and she was only a couple of years older than him at most.  She looked up, and when her eyes saw Leon, they lit up, though she did not smile.  Hers did not seem an expressive face.

            “Leon Orcot?” She asked, standing and coming around the desk.  She stood just an inch or two below Leon in height, and her grip when they shook hands was firm.  “Please, have a seat.” She gestured with her eyes to the chairs before her desk.  “Thank you, Thom.  We’ll talk at lunch.” Thom nodded and left, and Leon took one of the comfortable leather seats.

            “Well, Mister Orcot—”

            “Leon’s fine,” he interrupted.

            Chloe nodded briskly.  “Very good.  Things are generally fairly casual here, but ex-government employees sometimes have a rough time with that transition.” She paused, regarding him levelly.  “I am very interested in having you in my department.”

            “I’m very interested in being in your department,” Leon told her.  Out of all the departments in ACME, this was the one that fit best with Leon’s goals and personal preference.

            “I’ve discussed it at length with the Chief.” Chloe smiled then, just very briefly, and the expression seemed out of place.  “I told him, given you’re experience, you’d be a perfect fit with us here.  He believes, however, that you have a thing for fruitless chases.”

            For a second, Leon felt his heart was going to leap out of his chest, and his mind scrambled frantically to try and figure out how they knew about D.  Then his brain caught up, and he realised she was referring to Carmen Sandiego.  “I think I would tend to agree with you,” Leon told her, subdued, no matter that his mind was screaming at him, calling him a liar.

            “But then, there is your curious departure from the police force, some five years ago,” Chloe continued.  “It is strange, given your near perfect arrest record.  I assume the incidents involving this…Count D were anomalous?”  Leon didn’t trust his voice, so he just nodded.  “Well, the Chief has stated that, dependant upon your performance on this current case, he is willing to discuss putting you in my division.”

            “That would be…” Leon sought the appropriate word, unsure himself how he really felt about things.  It was an awesome opportunity, and moreover, flattering.  But at the same time, he was back in America now, and no where near closer to D, and no matter how fruitless he thought his searching would always be, he hadn’t been ready to give up when he ran into Ivy.

            “I think I must point out,” Chloe said, interrupting his thoughts, “that our detectives are allowed a high level of freedom in choosing which cases to pursue, but that you would no doubt be travelling all over the world on quite a regular basis.”  Her eyes were all but twinkling, smiling though her lips were not.

            “I could handle that,” Leon told her, smiling and wondering when he’d become so transparent.

            “Oh, good.” Chloe leaned back in her seat and met his gaze.  “Now, to catch Carmen…”

 

            “I’m so glad you were able to meet me this afternoon, Ivy,” Isabel said, as they seated themselves at the table. 

            “Um, yeah.  Thanks for inviting me,” Ivy said.  She looked around herself, clearly feeling awkward.  Isabel suppressed a smile.  The restaurant was one of the most expensive in the city, and Ivy had clearly known as much before hand.  She’d traded in her regular khakis and midriff for plain black slacks and a three quarter length shirt in a shade of forest green that made her eyes seem brighter and contrasted nicely with her hair.  Though she looked uncomfortable, Isabel thought it suited her delightfully.

            “I always find it admirable when one goes out of ones way to better performance and further intelligence,” Isabel remarked.

            Ivy shot her an odd look and made a frustrated sound.  She jerked her napkin out sharply and laid it over her lap, then leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin in one hand.  “How do you imagine it furthers my job performance to allow you to convince me of the validity of your work?” She said.  Isabel savoured each word.  So few were the times she was able to exchange dialogue with either Zack or Ivy.  The challenge in Ivy’s words was familiar and pleasant.

            “Perhaps,” Isabel said slowly, choosing her words carefully, “through convincing you of the validity of my work, and I can likewise convince you that your line of work is not the appropriate one for you.”

            “If that’s what you’re trying to do, you’re wasting your time and money,” Ivy told her bluntly.  “I love ACME.”

            “Very well,” Isabel relented, a secret smile tugging at her lips.  “However, I will not consider it a waste of time nor money.  I find your company most agreeable regardless of for whom you work.”

            Ivy blinked at her slowly, a nostalgic, half-smile on her face.  “The way you talk makes me think of someone.”

            “An English professor?” Isabel guessed, teasing.  As Carmen, the imperfect English used by her henchman drove her insane.  She was constantly correcting them, which caused them to tease her in return.

            Ivy laughed.  “No.  You won’t believe me.  You sound like Carmen.”

            “Really?” Isabel said, refusing to be worried over the connection.

            “I don’t suppose you’ve ever met her,” Ivy went on, “since she has Lee Galease on retainer.” Ivy paused here, as if it had just occurred to her.  “Strange, then, that she doesn’t have him take care of her henchman…” She looked to Isabel for an explanation.

             “Galease is an idiot,” Isabel said, and the disdain wasn’t difficult to feign.  She’d let him join V.I.L.E. as a favour for his cousin, R.B. Traitor, and the only reason she’d taken him on retainer was because she knew she’d never really need him.  “I assume Carmen values her employees enough to provide for them adequate council.”

            “But not for herself?” Ivy persisted.

            Isabel shrugged.  “I do not presume to know what goes on inside the mind of Carmen Sandiego.”

            “Very few of us do,” Ivy agreed with a grin.

            “So we both know why I invited you.  I want to know why you agreed to come,” Isabel said.

            Ivy was saved from having to answer immediately by the arrival of the waiter with their drinks.  Isabel watched with affectionate humour as Ivy struggled to pronounce the title of the dish she was ordering.  Ivy had many strengths, but languages were definitely Zack’s area of expertise.  It was why the two worked so well together, each filling the voids left by the other.  Isabel knew better than to interrupt and cause a blow to Ivy’s pride, so she waited until the girl was completely finished before placing her own order.

            “Well,” Isabel asked, in the silence that followed the waiter’s departure.

            “I dunno.” Ivy shifted and took her elbows off the table, slouching in her seat.  “You think I need a new perspective and I guess, in a way, I kinda do.”

            “Did you not just say that you love what you do?” Isabel asked, quite intrigued now.

            “I do,” Ivy agreed.  “Its just…I guess chasing after Carmen all the time changes the way you look at things.  I’ve worked with Carmen a lot, though not very much directly, to go after serious criminals.  And Carmen, she was an awesome detective.  So I wonder, how did she change?  And is what she does so bad, after all?”

            “Excuse my incredulity, Detective, but the other day in my office you seemed quite determined to put Carmen’s henchmen behind bars,” Isabel said.

            Ivy sighed.  “I know!  I met Carmen’s ex-partner once, and he and the Chief both seem to think Carmen does what she does for the challenge.  Her henchmen on the other hand—most of them have extensive criminal records completely unrelated to the work they do for Carmen.  When not working for her, they can do considerable damage on their own.  And they steal because they want monetary gain.”

            “Are you saying that dependent on one’s motives, theft is excusable?” Isabel asked, an inappropriate glee threatening to burst forward.  So long and hard she’d toyed with the detectives, testing their level of devotion to ACME and their morals.  How delightful to see it paying off…

            “No!” Ivy exclaimed quickly, her eyes wide.  “I’m not saying its okay—God, I don’t even know what I’m saying at all anymore—but at least her motives aren’t that untoward.”

            “Ivy, if you’re expecting me to clear this up for you, I’m afraid I simply can’t be of assistance,” Isabel told her.  “Do I believe Carmen Sandiego is a criminal?” She paused and tipped her head to the side.  Did she believe she was a criminal?  “Yes, in the eyes of the law.  But I rather think she’s just having a spot of fun.  She makes sure no one gets hurt, she doesn’t destroy anything, and she returns what she takes…I believe her sins are mala prohibita.”

            This did not seem to help with Ivy’s dilemma, unsurprisingly.  The girl was far too concerned with following what society was wrong and right because that was how she’d been trained.  Carmen strove to help Zack and Ivy see beyond the societal construct of ‘right’ and ‘wrong,’ but this sort of thing took time, and a predisposition for understanding such concepts.  To begin with, Carmen had thought Zack would be the one to grasp it first, given his impressive genius—such intelligence often came with the ability to look logically instead of passionately at the world…but Zack was all passion.  Ivy was the far more rational of the two.

            Ivy was nodding, her expression lost in thought.  “Yeah…” She laughed, and Isabel was quite intrigued by the self-deprecation in the sound.  “That damn prohibita…”

            “Ivy,” Isabel began delicately.

            “Nothing,” Ivy said, waving a hand.  “Just—and I’m not saying that what Carmen does is excusable—but I have to agree that a lot of things that are prohibited by our country are unnecessary or pointless, or sometimes so outdated they can cause damage.” She shook her head.  “Forget I’m saying this.  I still think that the way you help Carmen’s henchmen is wrong.” She was going through all the motions, but it wasn’t all there.

            Isabel hid her smile by taking a drink.  Oh, Ivy just got more and more interesting every time they met.  She couldn’t wait til the next step of her current caper.  She’d make sure to push all the right buttons…

            “Speaking of Carmen,” Isabel said, smoothly switching topics to set Ivy at ease.  “How is your current case going?”

            Ivy pulled a face, and the waiter arrived with their plates.  Ivy stared at hers as if she hadn’t known precisely what she’d been ordering and now didn’t know what to do with it.  “I don’t know,” she said at last, distracted.  “There’s this new guy at work, and he’s pretty cool.  Smart, though he doesn’t seem to think so.”  She frowned.

            Isabel felt a strange sensation in her chest, like heartburn and she shifted uncomfortably and took a drink of her water.  “Is he…distracting you?”

            “Huh?” Ivy’s brow furrowed.  “What?  Oh…no, I mean, not like that.  He’s way older than I am.  At least thirty.”

            “Oh, positively ancient,” Isabel said dryly, though she found it humorous.

            “Huh?” Ivy said again, then blushed.  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said with a scowl.  “I just meant, like he’d be interested in me.  And, well, he’s cute, I guess.  I mean, yes, he is.  But he’s seriously not my type.”

            Isabel really, really wanted to ask what that type was, but it was hardly appropriate.  “Anyway,” Ivy went on, “Zack kinda got the same idea you did, that Leon and I were…seeing each other, or something, and then he and I got into a fight…so we’re kinda doing the case separately.”

            “Certainly the two of you do your best work together,” Isabel said, and at the look Ivy gave her, went on.  “I have followed your case history.  It is good to know who you’re up against.”

            Ivy coloured slightly, and cleared her throat.  “Well…maybe it’s better this way—we can work on the different aspects of the crime.”

            “Detective,” Isabel said in a low voice, “no man is an island.”

 

            Leon had got up early, and practically no one was around.  The Chief had given him a room on the second floor of the building with a cot and a private bathroom, for his use until he got his own place.  He read up on some of the Carmen case files for a while before he felt like he’d read it all a hundred times.  He still wasn’t on the same schedule as everyone in San Francisco, living by Johannesburg.  But then the Chief mentioned he could use the C-5 if there was anyone he wanted to tell about his new job, and Leon’s heart gave a leap when he thought of Chris.

            Though it was only eight in the morning in San Francisco, it was just after one on Saturday afternoon in New York.  Still, it took Leon a little while to gather up the courage to go, uncertain what he would say.  Five years was a long time, and Chris had gone through puberty in that time.  Who knew how he had changed? 

            As he stood outside his family’s house, the decision was taken from him.  A mini-van pulled into the driveway and Chris, Samantha and his aunt poured out, chatting and laughing and Chris began to hurry toward the mailbox until his eyes fell upon Leon.

            He had definitely grown—had to be at least 5’10”.  He looked a lot like Leon had in high school, before he’d pumped up in the academy, all skinny long limbs and narrow torso.  But Chris looked happier than Leon ever remembered being, and his smile only grew when he saw Leon.

            “Oh my God!” Chris cried, and ran to Leon, throwing his arms around his waist.  “You found him!”

            “Hey kid,” Leon grunted, and stumbled from Chris’ weight.  Had he really once carried this kid around his shoulders?  He put a hand on Chris’ arm and tried to pry him off, but for a scrawny fourteen year old, he had a good grip.  Smiling, Leon put his arms around Chris, messing up his hair.

            “Did you find him, Leon?” Chris asked, looking up with wide eyes.

            “Uh…” Leon cleared his throat.  “Not…no, kiddo.  Didn’t find him.”

            Chris’ smile dropped a few notches.  “Then…why are you here?”

            “Not just happy to see me?” Leon asked wryly.

            “But…” Chris finally let him go and took a step back.  His mouth twisted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out what, precisely. 

            “Look, Chris, it isn’t that I’ve stopped looking so much as…rearranged my priorities,” Leon explained, as if that might help him understand it himself.  “I, uh.  I got a new job, Chris.”

            Chris’ eyes widened.  “But I thought you always wanted to be a cop?” He asked.

            “Well, ACME sorta does the same thing,” Leon said slowly.  It had the effect he had imagined. 

            “ACME!?” Chris shouted, bobbing on his feet in excitement.  “Wow!  Do you get to chase Carmen Sandiego?”

            “Hey, you don’t need to tell the entire neighbourhood,” Leon said, laughing a little.  His Aunt Patricia and Samantha were watching them from a distance, and his aunt was grinning.  “Why don’t we go inside and talk about it?”

            Josie was home for the weekend and was already working on lunch and dropped her spoon when she saw him, practically crushing his ribs with her hug.  They all played catch-up while the meal was being prepared and over lunch.  Chris had always shown Leon’s letters to the rest of the family, and everyone had questions about the places he’d visited and the things he’d seen.

            Chris was more interested in hearing about ACME, now, though, and made Leon tell him every detail about Head Quarters and the Chief and the C-5 corridor, and before he’d finished Chris was talking about how he was going to apply to the ACME youth programme when he went back to school on Monday and Aunt Patricia made some comment under her breath about how at least ACME agents weren’t getting shot at all the time.

            “Can I come visit?” Chris asked.

            “Well, I’m working on the case right now,” Leon said.  “But spring break should be coming up soon, huh?  Maybe you could come over for an afternoon and I could give you a tour,” He suggested and Chris nodded eagerly. 

            Aunt Patricia took him aside before he left, asking if he was sure he was all right.  Leon knew the family had probably been talking about his departure since it happened, and he did his best to reassure her.  He hadn’t realised until he’d sat around the table with them how much he missed being around them like he had been when he was a kid and he and his mom had still lived near them.

            Though he’d been unsure until now, seeing Chris made everything seem clear.  He could travel the world, get paid to do it, still look for D while doing something worthwhile, and he could be around Chris.  There really didn’t seem to be any downside to it.  Leon promised to return when Uncle Edward got back from his business trip, and have a proper dinner with them, and that got Aunt Patricia off his back about how he was doing.  

Leon arrived back at Headquarters with a spring in his step.  There was a message from Ivy that she was going out to lunch and she’d be back in a few hours.  A quick chat with the Chief let him know Zack was at his home, and Leon figured he could take advantage of Ivy’s absence to talk to him about the case…

It was like being himself again.

 

            The house was empty save for Zack.  Ivy was off doing her own thing, and their parents were god knew where—probably at some benefit or another.  It was fine with Zack; it meant he could play his music as loud as he wanted.  He’d set his play list to random, cranked up the volume and retired to his room to think over the case.

            Zack was having next to no luck with his clue.  He’d realised the contents of the box were silk, but he couldn’t understand how that fit with the rest.  Biel Lake was located in Switzerland, and about the only remarkable thing about it was the fact that it provided a barrier between the French and German speaking parts of the area.  Unless Carmen meant to steal the lake, which Zack couldn’t discard out of hand, there was nothing.  And even the lake thing was stretching it.  Besides, it was too obvious.

            He’d considered swallowing his pride and going to Ivy, but he didn’t feel like hearing her crow over that, not to mention the fact that that Leon guy would be there.  Zack scowled when he thought of the other man.  He was way too old to be looking at Ivy, and what sort of weirdo went to South America for no reason

            “Hey.”

            Zack jumped, startled, and turned to face Leon, who was standing in the doorway.  Zack’s scowled deepened.  “How’d you get here?”

            “The Chief let me in,” Leon said.

            “Well, where’s Ivy?” Zack demanded, sitting up straight on his bed.

            Leon shrugged.  “Said something about lunch with someone.”

            “What, you don’t know?” Zack asked, arching a brow.

            “Look, kid, I already told you, I’m not into your sister, and she’s not into me, and believe it or not, she doesn’t okay her every move with me before hand,” Leon said peevishly.

            “Fine,” Zack said under his breath.

            “Hey, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” Leon said, raising his hands.  “I just thought things might go more smoothly if we worked together on this.  And I feel like a jerk that you and your sister are fighting about me, when it isn’t really necessary.”

            Zack eyed him suspiciously.  Everyone was into Ivy.  It was a sad fact that he’d come to terms with throughout their partnership, having to run interference between her and the dozens of fellow agents after her.  “You’re really not into Ivy?” He asked.

            Leon chuckled.  “Well…she is really hot…” Zack opened his mouth to protest, but Leon beat him to it.  “I’m just screwing with you.  Of course she’s hot, but I’m not…I’m not really looking.”

            “Fine,” Zack said again, but this time with a bit more charity.  He wasn’t one hundred percent certain yet, but the guy seemed sincere.  And at least he wasn’t some pathetic, lovelorn idiot like Josha.

            “Is it safe to come in?” The Chief called from the hall. 

Zack sighed and looked at Leon, who shrugged sheepishly.  “He insisted on coming along.”

“Come in,” Zack said, and a moment later the Chief zipped into the room, hovering a few feet in the air, just at eye level with Zack.  “So…the case?”

            “Well, I’ve been thinking—and I know I’m not quite the Carmen aficionado that you and Ivy are—but I was looking over some of the past cases with Chloe—”

            “Chloe from violent crimes?” Zack asked, raising a brow.  Ivy had helped out in that department a few times, when Carmen was laying low, but other than that, he didn’t know much of her, and she’d never expressed interest in the Carmen chase before.

            “Yeah, and it seems to me that there’s always more than meets the eye to a Carmen clue.  So I poked around a little bit, but there’s nothing hidden on the statue, or the wrapping, or in the writing.  So I figure it has to be in the wording.  But I’ve never been any good at puns and crap.” Leon shrugged and held out the card that had come with Ivy’s clue.  “I thought you said you were working with someone else on this…”

            Zack was confused for a moment, then remembered what he’d shouted at Ivy when he’d left.  “Oh.  Jasmine’s still in Venice, trying to figure out the water barrier thing.  And Tatyanna will be over in a while.  She’s my girlfriend,” he added, shooting Leon a suspicious look, “so don’t get any ideas.”

            Leon chuckled, shaking his head.  “Zack, I’m pretty sure you have nothing to worry about.”

            Zack didn’t know whether or not that should offend him, so he didn’t comment at all, looking instead to the clue.  He gestured with his free hand for Leon to read the other.  Zack frowned at the wording.  The Chief was floating anxiously ever forward, as if waiting for a breakthrough, however impatiently.  Zack nibbled at his bottom lip.  He knew the answers were hidden in the wording…unravelled…tangled…he fingered the raw silk in his hand, feeling on the edge of understanding.

            Leon made a frustrated sound.  “All I can think of is that damned Elvis Presley song,” he muttered, tossing aside the other clue.

            The Chief and Zack exchanged looks.  “What song?” Zack demanded.

            “You know, Suspicious Minds,” Leon prompted.  “My little brother was always watching that Lilo and Stitch movie, and they played that song.”  He shook his head.  “I just keep hearing it when I read that clue.”

            “Chief…” Zack said, mind jumping ahead.  “Isn’t there a street in Memphis…”

            “Beale!” The Chief exclaimed, making the leap.  The Chief’s screen opened a view of the street.  “First created in 1841, Beale Street quickly became a hothouse of creative and political expression in the African American community.  W.C. Handy, B.B. King, and Louis Armstrong were regular fixtures on the street, and today it sees several jazz and blues festivals year round.  Famous buildings on Beale Street include the oldest surviving African American church, the Orpheum Theatre, Alley Cats, and Coyote Ugly.”

            “Alley Cats?” Leon and Zack echoed.

            “Then it’s settled,” Leon said, standing up.  “Can you get Ivy, so we can go?”

            “It isn’t settled, though,” Zack said.  “I mean, how does the rest fi…” But even as he asked the question, Zack knew the answer.  “Black Sea, jade…the Silk Route.”

            Leon looked at him dubiously.  “I thought that went all over the place,” he said, and given his so far eclectic knowledge, it seemed odd he’d know.  “How can she steal something that stretches all over China and India and Europe and Egypt and stuff?”

            “Okay…you do remember the part about the canals, right?” Zack asked, and couldn’t help but grin.  Leon might grow on him yet.

            “Alright, fine,” Leon snapped.  “So say she is going to steal this place in Memphis and the Silk Route.  How are we going to stop her?”

            “We catch her, first.”

            Of course, that was always much easier said than done.

 

            Carmen paced up and down the grand hallway, tossing her cell phone back and forth between her hands.  If any of her henchmen decided to invade her home today, it would seem she was just waiting for Sara’s call.  Sara was working out the last of the kinks on the Beale Street project…

            But then, Carmen’s henchmen never really understood how she did the things she did, and really, she only used Sara’s creations as a convenient silkscreen for the truth.  It helped that Sara herself believed her inventions to be infallible.  It would have been so much work to explain that Carmen could steal these things simply because she wanted to.  Desire enough was all it took for her to steal the most improbable prizes.  But let that slip, and what she did wouldn’t be nearly so impressive.  Or perhaps too impressive.

            She paused and looked down at the phone, unable to understand her present turmoil.  It was so easy to flirt with Ivy as Isabel.  Ivy didn’t even seem to mind, though she didn’t quite reciprocate.  She probably didn’t even realise what was going on.  For her age, Ivy was remarkably innocent about such things.  So it was fun to sit there and provoke her and make her squirm without even realising why.

            Carmen, however, didn’t know how to take the situation.  Carmen was far more levelheaded than Isabel, less passionate, more careful.  Carmen knew that Ivy wouldn’t hesitate to arrest Isabel if she made the connection, and the longer she continued to toy with Ivy as Isabel, the more vulnerable she became…the more likely the connection to be made.  Yet…she enjoyed this game.

            A glance at the faceplate of the phone told her it was only three minutes from the last time she’d looked.  Just past one in the afternoon.  Sara had predicted she’d be finished around five, which meant it would probably more likely be seven.  Plenty of time to think things through.  Only Carmen had never been particularly good at thinking about feelings.  Suhara, Lynn and Ilsey had teased her about it ever so much, that she was so intelligent about everything else, but clueless when it came to human interaction.  She liked to think she’d got better about it, but she knew even if she could fool everyone else, she wasn’t kidding herself.  Ivy might be naïve, but Carmen was rather hopeless with interpersonal relationships, period.

            Which was how she became to be pacing, running through her options.  Ilsey was best about the human interaction thing, but she was still too bitter over the way things had ended between them.  Carmen couldn’t bring herself to go to Lynn with questions on romance, given their history.  So that left Suhara.  Only, she wasn’t so sure Suhara would be much better than she was about such things.  All the same, the mere thought of seeing Suhara filled Carmen with a comfortable, warm yearning.  Just speaking to him often made everything wrong seem right.  Whether or not he had answers was not that important.

            Deep inside, Carmen knew she’d made the decision long ago, and the pacing and indecision were a mere formality while she attempted to talk herself out of it.  It wasn’t going to work.  She’d set her heart on seeing Suhara, and now she must.

 

            Carmen had been put to bed some while ago.  Though she’d protested, her lids had been drooping all the while.  She hated to leave problems unsolved before sleeping, and had been working on particularly difficult logic chart.  Suhara had pretended not to notice when she ripped out the page and snuck it to bed with her.

            For some reason, Suhara had been sleeping with difficulty as of late.  It didn’t bother him during the day, when Carmen was around.  But in the evening, when he would have been asleep for hours before, his thoughts wandered, making sleep linger out of his reach.  It was just…there were so many things he wanted to show Carmen, so many things she had to learn and she could be so stubborn.  And always, gnawing at the back of his mind, the promise of what she might become if he wasn’t careful.

            A wind rustled through the curtains, and he didn’t remember leaving the window open.  He turned quickly, his old detective instincts still serving him well.  The woman stood just inside the window, dressed in familiar red and yellow and cloaked in shadow.  She had been someone he knew, but now she was only a phantom, a persistent memory that he couldn’t never fully dismiss.

            “I was wondering how long it would take you to notice me.”  There was a smirk in her voice.  That voice was slow and deep and for a moment, Suhara wanted to be submerged in it, felt it could cure him of this ever present cloud of confusion that hung over him daily.  That wish was gone as quickly as it had come, forgotten.

            “What do you want from me?” Suhara asked, suspicious.

            She laughed, and that sound caused a pain in his heart.  She moved away from the window, heels clicking on the wood floor.  Suhara didn’t want to, but he flicked a glance at Carmen’s door, hoping she wouldn’t be disturbed.  Of course, she didn’t miss anything, following his gaze, but not commenting.  “Did I ever need a motive for wanting to speak with you?”

            “I don’t know what I could possibly have to say to someone like you,” Suhara snapped.  He’d heard about her—a criminal, and his child’s namesake.  The woman before him was everything his daughter would never become.  But he had to be so careful.

            “Are we going to have this conversation again?” She asked, bored.  Always keep her engaged, the contract had said.  Never allow her to become bored. 

Suhara found it difficult to speak.  His throat was suddenly dry.  He turned away from her and went to the kitchen, scrambling around for a cup and filling it from the sink.  He drank it all quickly in one gulp and stood over the sink, panting.  His vision was all dim and smoky around the edges.  Age seemed to every day dull his senses further.

“Suhara-san…” Her hand touched his back and he jerked away from her, dropping the cup.  It landed in the sink and thankfully didn’t shatter, but certainly it was loud.  He didn’t wish to wake Carmen.  “Are you alright?” There was something plaintive in her voice that made him ache.

“You must leave at once,” Suhara muttered.  He couldn’t look at her face.  “You shouldn’t be here.”

“That’s never stopped me before,” she said, almost belligerently.  Her tone was so similar to Carmen’s when she didn’t get her way.  Always show her unconditional love, even in your remonstrations of her behaviour.

Suhara stumbled away from her, his hip cracking painfully on the island.  “I don’t want to call ACME, but I will.  It is for your own good.”

She stopped looking concerned and put her hands on her hips.  She was an impressive figure, tall and statuesque.  “Suhara, what is going on here?” She demanded.

“Shh!!” He held up a finger to his lips, looking fervently over his shoulder.  In the ensuing silence, he heard no stirring from within Carmen’s room.  She had frozen for the moment, but his actions had given him away, and she pushed past him, paying no heed to his hasty protests, and she opened the door.

Carmen lay peacefully on her bed, the early morning light making her pale skin seem golden, her dark locks shining all around her almost blinding around the crown like a corona.  The woman took in the scene in silence, and Suhara knew she, of all people, could not judge him.  She of all people should know about wasted chances.

“You have to go now,” Suhara told her.  Never allow her anything in excess.  “I don’t need you any more.”

She looked again at the sleeping figure and her lips tightened.  Suhara pushed past her to set on the edge of the bed, passing a hand over Carmen’s forehead, over her smooth curls.  “We have everything we need in one another.”

            No more words were exchanged between them.  Once Suhara ensured Carmen was still sleeping, he adjusted her blankets more neatly around her and closed the door gently as he left.  There was no sign of his unwelcome intruder, the window to the balcony shut and latched.  He looked out over the dirty city, as dawn slowly crept toward him.  Even in the dazzling firelight reflected on mirrored windows, it was all fraught with gloom and dreariness.  It was good she was gone.  He and Carmen needed one another, and to be separate from all the rest.

           

            “Good of you to join us, Ivy,” the Chief snapped sarcastically, when Ivy strolled into the office sometime after two.  Zack looked up casually at her name and did a double take at her outfit.  It was clearly something she’d borrowed from their mother’s closet.

            “Who the heck were you having lunch with dressed like that?” He demanded.

            “Not that it’s any of your business, Zachary, but I was dining with Isabel Méchants,” Ivy said with a haughty sniff.

            Zack relaxed at that, though he was no less confused.  Why Ivy cared at all about that lawyer stuff was beyond him.  “Look, we got a break on the clues.”

            “Huh?  Oh…great,” Ivy said, and it was clear she was distracted.  He, Leon and the Chief all shared querulous looks.  “So, what’s Carmen up to this time?”

            Leon snorted and flicked the pile of papers in front of him.  “Well, apparently she wasn’t content with stealing the Venice canals or the LA streets, because she’s got a bit more ambitious on the same theme.”

            Ivy bent over the papers and though she was reading them, she lacked her regular enthusiasm.  “Okay,” she muttered as she read.  “So what’s the plan, Chief?”

            The Chief shrugged a brow.  “I’ve already let the local ACME agencies know, and notified the local authorities, but so far, no Carmen sightings.  It is possible this is just a red herring.”

            “No,” Ivy said, and said down, tapping her lip thoughtfully.  She may have been right next to them physically, but mentally she was miles away.  “No…”

            “Alright, then, big sis, what do you think we should do?” Zack challenged.

            “I think Leon was right to begin with,” Ivy said abruptly, and while Zack scowled, Leon shot him a pleased grin.  “We know where she’s going to be.  We just catch her first.  What about Venice and LA?”

            “Still no go on moving the streets from LA out of Venice,” the Chief said.  He sounded dismayed, and more than that, depressed.  That was never a good sign in Zack’s book.  “If we can’t move them soon, we’re going to have to let the water in anyway.  As much as I’d hate to see either eventuality, it would be better to rebuild the streets of LA than the entire city of Venice.”

            There was silence in the office.  Even Leon, who didn’t seem to have much going on upstairs, looked pensive and upset about either possibility.  Then Zack remembered that he’d been LAPD.  Maybe he was worried about his friends or something.

            “Fine, look,” Zack said, standing.  “I’ll go meet Tatyanna in Russia and we’ll head over to China to keep an eye on the Silk Route.”

            “Why’re you the one going to China?” Leon demanded suddenly.

            “Because I’m the only one who speaks just about all the languages along the Silk Route,” Zack said in a ‘duh’ tone of voice.

             “Well, I want to come too,” Leon snapped, ignoring Zack’s attitude, giving as good as getting.

            “Why?” Zack asked, bewildered.

            Leon glared at him and crossed his arms over his chest in a clearly defensive gesture.  “I got my reasons.”

            Zack looked to the Chief, but he wasn’t any help in the matter.  Zack sighed.  “Whatever.  But you better bring a jacket.  It’s going to be cold this time of year.”

 

            “Ilsey.”

            Ilsey nearly jumped a foot in the air, her coffee sloshing all down her front and splashing on the floor.  Several of the papers she’d had tucked under her arm slipped free and went fluttering to the ground.  She turned slowly on her heel, eyes widening.

            “Ohmygawd, Carmen,” She hissed, and then, forgetting herself altogether, threw her arms around Carmen’s neck.

            “Ow! Ilsey!” Carmen squirmed, and Ilsey realised she still had her coffee in hand.

            “Sorry!” Ilsey said, and stepped back quickly.  She looked around at the mess of coffee and papers on the ground and Carmen sighed, going down on one knee to help her gather them.

            “What are you doing here?” Ilsey demanded in a low voice.

            “Not out here,” Carmen muttered, and shoving the papers back at Ilsey, dragged her down the hall to her office.

            “If someone saw you,” Ilsey began, looking frantically up and down the hall before closing and locking the door behind them.  Her heart was beating overtime.  Carmen had always been bold, but the way she just sometimes waltzed into ACME was crazy.

            “No one saw me, I can assure you,” Carmen said coolly.  “And if they did, it would be no matter.  I do not mean to be here long.  There is a very urgent matter I must discuss with you.”

            Ilsey’s eyes went wide.  “Yeah, me too!  I mean, and me with you!”

            Carmen regarded the other woman suspiciously.  “Oh?” She prompted, hands on her hips.

            “Yeah…but…” The shock of the situation was wearing off, and she wasn’t so certain she should be spilling secrets to Carmen.  Though Ilsey was not one of the agents in pursuit of Carmen, it did not change the fact that she was a detective in charge of bringing in wanted criminals, and she now had a very wanted one in her office.  But it was Carmen.

            “Ilsey, I don’t give a damn about ACME and their morals right now!” Carmen snapped.  “You visit Suhara often.”  She stated, she didn’t ask.

            “Well, yes,” Ilsey said, puzzled.  “But—”

            “When was the last time you spoke with him?” Carmen asked.

            “Yesterday morning.  But Carmen, it was really strange.”

            “What was strange?” Carmen said, pinning the younger woman with a sharp gaze.

            Ilsey blushed at the attention and was uncomfortable talking about Suhara behind his back.  “I…I had tried calling him for days, and he didn’t answer and he didn’t return my calls.  And then when I got there he was mean.” Just the mere memory made her eyes sting.  She’d never seen Suhara like that before—distant, yes, but never cruel.

            “How do you mean?” Carmen persisted.

            “Well, he was all cold, and I tried joking with him but he just got very angry and told me to get out.  And…” She paused and wavered for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell the rest.  Carmen read her so easily.  “He had this cat, and he talked to it like it was…like it could understand him or something.  And there was something familiar about it.” She trailed off a distant look on her face.  “Carmen, it was creepy.”

            “But, Carmen,” she said softly.  “How did you know?”

            “Don’t worry, Ilsey; I’ll take care of everything,” Carmen promised.

            Ilsey didn’t doubt it, but the cold tone in Carmen’s voice caused chills up and down her spine.  She put her face in her hands, rubbing her forehead.  “Carmen, why do you even care?” She asked gently.  She was so tired of all of this between them.  Carmen was silent, and when Ilsey dropped her hands, she was alone in the room.  She laughed in surprise and a little in disappointment.  She only hoped Carmen could really do what she promised, and fix things with Suhara.

 

            Suhara had never been all that talkative, and so Carmen couldn’t quite understand why he didn’t seem to stop talking to himself as he walked through his apartment.  That odd-looking cat of his followed him around where he went, meowing as if in agreement to his words.  Though she had no rational reason for thinking so, Carmen felt there was something very wrong with that animal.  It was in the way the cat moved…it was almost human.  And her eyes weren’t the normal green or yellow or black for a cat, but a rare blue.  Most strange of all was the way the cat could set still for hours on the tabletop, staring intently at a game or a book.

            Carmen had her own fair share of cats, and some of them had been in possession of interesting quirks—like Charlie, who insisted on sleeping only in upside down cardboard boxes, or Andy, who bit people’s chins when they shouted—but this cat was, hands down, the strangest she’d ever seen.

            Around noon they went out, and it was strange enough that Suhara was taking the cat on a walk.  But stranger still, he didn’t put her on a leash or anything, and the cat stayed obediently near.  Carmen almost wanted to follow them to see just where they were going, but she wasn’t going to pass up the chance of sneaking in while they were away.

            After having been partners with Carmen for so long, Suhara should have got better about home security, but it was just as easy to slip in his window as it had been the evening before.  The place was a mess, which was remarkably out of character for Suhara who always liked for things to be in its proper place.  She pursed her lips in disapproval, dodging toys and games and magazines.  None of them seemed the sort of thing a man in his fifties with only a cat for company would keep.

            She peeked into Suhara’s room, which was orderly compared to the rest of the apartment, and then into the bathroom, which was clean, too.  Then she pushed open the other bedroom door.  It was strange that there should be an entire room for the cat, with a bed and no litter box anywhere to be seen.  But more disturbing still was the closet, filled with little girl’s clothing.

            Frowning, Carmen went beyond the last closed door.  Suhara’s study in San Francisco had been warm and welcoming, bookshelves brimming with books and loose sheaves of paper, framed maps and famous artwork on the wall, and small lamps casting a golden glow over everything.  This room was unlived in.  Most everything was still in boxes, the walls were plain white, and the ceiling light made everything look stark.  A single piece of paper was on the desk, written in scrawling calligraphy.  She picked up the paper and as she began to read, her frown grew deeper.

            At the bottom of the contract, next to Suhara’s signature, was another, the name of the one who’d drawn up the contract in the first place.  Carmen knew a thing or two about contracts, and had no idea why a pet shop owner would have one such as this—particularly concerning the sale of a cat.  But she was going to find out.

            It turned out finding Count D’s pet shop was a piece of cake.  One call to Kami Kaze later, she was in Shinjuku, gazing up at Neo-Chinatown.  Turned out the building was owned by a gentleman involved in the Triad, and Kaze knew a fair amount about all sorts of illegal activities taking place after hours.  Count D himself had no record of which Kaze knew, but there were strange rumours about his pets…stories of people being sold humans instead of pets, and that sometimes the results of his sales weren’t all that…fortuitous for his patrons.

            Carmen hadn’t needed to hear anything else.  Whatever that cat really was, Carmen knew it was somehow involved in Suhara’s new attitude, and contract or not, she was not going to stand for it.

            She’d dressed in her less comfortable Isabel persona, so as not to draw attention.  Not, now that she saw, walking down the busy streets of Tokyo, that she would have stood out all that much.  Neo-Chinatown was somehow charming in spite of its size and location.  The building, however towering, had shades of traditional Chinese architecture, and the interior was all bright tapestries and fabric lanterns.  The pet shop was on the thirteenth floor, and as soon as she’d set foot on the inside the building, Carmen had…sensed something.

            Carmen had known she was different even as a child, and while it had taken her some time to get used to her powers, she had always been able to tell when there was someone like her nearby.  And right now, there was.  Given Suhara’s behaviour, Carmen figured it was a safe bet that this Count D was more than met the eye.  Using those same abilities that allowed her to gain access to the most secure of buildings, she made herself seem unremarkable, more a shadow than an actual person.  In her experience, this worked on everyone, human or god. 

As it turned out, D was no exception.  No sooner had Carmen arrived on the thirteenth floor than D himself came storming out of his store.  Carmen knew him on sight.  Indeed, he was no mere human.  It was more than his untouched beauty and poise, or those strange eyes, but there was a glow about him.  He was scowling fiercely, and hot on his heels was the man Kaze had described as being the mob boss, Lau.  Though apparently they called him by the nickname Taizu.  They were in a heated argument about money, which apparently Taizu thought D owed him.

It was the perfect opportunity.  D was tearing down the hall toward the stairs and Taizu was in hot pursuit.  Neither even looked in Carmen’s direction, and soon their voices were lost in the distance.

The door had not been locked.  Certainly this D thought no one would dare bother his store in his absence.  When she put her hand on the door, she could feel the gentle pulse of protections far stronger than any lock.  They sensed her, and as she ran her hand over the surface, they pushed outward physically, causing her to stumble back.  These were magics far stronger than her own, and though she might be able to bypass them, it would take time, and as she worked on it, D would no doubt take notice.

She would need a different plan…

 

Taizu could be most tiresome at times.  For the most part he amused D, which was why he had done nothing so far to rid himself of the man.  Perhaps it was that he reminded D of someone else, but that was a dangerous line of reasoning, and D did not care to examine it too closely.

One would think, after nearly two years, the man would give up with his fool’s mission.  He’d seen plenty of proof about the nature of D’s work, and furthermore, there was no way he could be ignorant about D’s own nature.  How could he possibly think he would intimidate someone like D?  At least Leon had grown.  He may have kept with his ridiculous accusations to the very end, but D had seen in him a change.  He’d noticed Leon’s growing ability to hear and see the animals, and couldn’t help but wonder how that might have continued had D remained.

Well, so much for abandoning dangerous lines of reasoning.  He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts with some difficulty.  Like Leon himself, the memories of him were stubborn and fierce.  D could not help a small, fond smirk at the thought.

“What are you smiling about?” Taizu snapped.  “Because if you think this argument is over…”

“Taizu,” D said, his voice even and patient even as he fought the urge to clench his fists.  “I have allowed you to join me this evening only because it is unfortunately not a crime to follow me.  However I do wish you would desist with this particular topic.”

“That last customer of yours, I looked into him,” Taizu said, in that tone of voice that said how smart he thought he was.

D arched his brows in mock surprise.  “I do not see how he is any of your concern.  Certainly you could not suspect him of being involved in illicit behaviour?”

“If I have learned anything from being in your acquaintance, it is to never underestimate anyone,” Taizu said, smiling smugly.

“Suhara-san is a model citizen,” D persisted.  “He is recently retired from ACME, where he was one of their top detectives.  He has never incurred so much as a traffic violation.  If there were anyone for whom it would be impossible to be involved in illegal activities, it would be he.”

            “So I discovered, upon reading his file,” Taizu allowed, spreading his hands before himself.  “Strange though.  I’ve had people on him since the day he visited your store, and he’s already been visited by two very attractive young ladies.”

            D shrugged, feeling delightfully vindicated by his complete ignorance of these women.  “Taizu,” he said breezily, “if indeed these women are anything other than friends, I have no idea how you could connect them to me.  I sold Suhara-san a kitten, and a rather boring specimen at that.  He had no preference on what breed, and ended up with a stray I picked up—a coon, whose only remarkable features were her blue eyes.”

            “Yes,” Taizu agreed, “they’ve mentioned the cat.  Ugly little thing.”

            D fought the urge to smirk.  He’d rather not give Taizu another reason to prattle on.  “Dear Taizu,” he murmured, “it is no fault of mine that you refuse to see the inherent value of a thing.”

            Taizu began to roar again.  His rage was much quieter than Leon’s, and tended to be more calculated, but if D got under his skin, he would fly off the handle just as quickly.  The problem was, he was far less predictable than most, and more dangerous, too, if only because of his familial connections.  But D was not ready to leave Japan, so he was learning how to control Taizu, in a way he’d never been able to control Leon.  Taizu was far easier to subdue, as well.  D took full advantage of that fact quite often, and was once again about to do so when they rounded the corner entering Kabukichō.

            The district was large, and well lit now that night had fallen, bustling with activity both lawful and illicit.  Even among the love hotels, host clubs and theatres, Neo-Chinatown stood out if only because of its sheer size.  Anywhere in Kabukichō’s several block radius, and indeed, from parts of Shinjuku, the highest parts of the roof were visible.  Or, would have been, if the building was there.  D knew Taizu had noticed as much, too, from the way he’d fallen silent.

            Well…it must be some optical illusion, because there was no way that Neo-Chinatown no longer stood.  Only…Taizu started walking again at a brisk pace, almost a run, and heedless of his lack of endurance, D followed.  Taizu caught his wrist as they neared the place where the building had once stood, and D had neither the will nor the desire to pull himself free.  He might not remain standing if he did.

            A large crowd had gathered on the street, and D recognised some of them as fellow shop owners in Neo-Chinatown.  To either side, the neighbouring buildings remained, and their occupants had begun to investigate, as had random tourists and inhabitants of the area.  It was most curious, D noted around his mute hysteria, that there was no sign of the building whatever—no debris, no random bit of façade, no stray wires or pipes that would have surely provided the building with electricity and water—nothing to indicate there had even ever been a building, other than the empty dirt plot where it had once stood.

            D felt his knees buckle, and was, for once, very glad Taizu was there, slipping an arm around his waist to support him.  He was only dimly aware of Taizu shouting, and oh, there were several of his men, standing around uselessly and scratching their heads.  No one could provide an adequate explanation.  It was late, and most of the shops and restaurants had been closed.  Even those occupants who had been in the building only a short while ago were in something of a daze, unable to explain how they’d come to be outside of the building when it disappeared.

            “The cops are going to be here soon.  What the hell are we supposed to do about this?”

            D let out a little whimper and tried to rush forward, but Taizu’s hold on him turned violent.  D rounded on him, slapping him hard in the face, but even surprise didn’t make Taizu let go.  When he raised his hand a second time, Taizu caught him.  D was very aware of his own strength, of his ability to break free, but now people were staring at them.  He forced himself to let his arm go slack, to arrange his face into an expression of compliance.  He felt something of a cold calm steal over him.  He would find the one who was responsible, and he would make that person pay.

            “What are you so freaked out about?” Taizu demanded.  “Its just a pet shop…unless you have something more going on there…”

            D looked up at him, eyes narrowing dangerously.  “Strange, that when your entire building has mysteriously disappeared, you still cannot let go of this ridiculous notion you have regarding me and my shop.”

            Taizu matched him glare for glare.  “Strange?  I don’t know that you’re one to talk.  Around you I’ve seen some of the strangest things I could imagine.  For all I know, it’s your fault this has happened.  I don’t know how anyone could steal an entire building, but I have seen you conversing with river gods.  Who else here has friends with such power?”

            “I had been led to believe that you too have very…powerful…friends, Lau Uu Fei.” D was able to slip from suddenly lax hands, and took a step back to distance himself from the other man.  Perhaps it was the shock at being addressed by his name, or perhaps Taizu could read on D’s face his determination…whatever the reason, Taizu regarded him with a foreign, almost fearful gleam in his eye.

            “Do you know who did this?” Taizu asked in a low voice, meant for D only.  Finally, the man was taking him seriously.

            The truth was no matter, and not painful for D to admit, because he would remedy the situation at once.  “I do not.  But rest assured, Your Highness, I will discover the one responsible, and I will set things here to rights.”

 

            Zack had been right about the weather.  Though it was late spring, it was colder than a gravedigger’s heart.  Leon wasn’t going to let it show, and just shoved his fists in his pocket and bit the inside of his lip to keep his teeth from chattering.  From his vantage point on the fucking Great Wall of China, he could see the path stretching out in two directions.

            He couldn’t rightly say what he’d thought he was going to accomplish by going to China.  He’d been once before, shortly after leaving America, and all he’d learned then was that it was a huge fucking place.  So, evidently, was the Silk Route.  Sentries had been posted at several of the major locations along the route, and he’d been lucky enough to land one of the furthest northwest, putting him close to the bitter cold wind from the coast and from the north.  He couldn’t help but think Zack had done that on purpose.

            Only…somehow, and okay, maybe it was really stupid, he felt closer to D being here.  For all he knew, D was half the fucking world away.  After all, the closest Leon had ever got to finding him was that one time in Berlin when someone mentioned a pet shop that had disappeared overnight, and right after Leon’d seen that picture of Sofu, too.  It was too much to be a coincidence, and D had taught him to take nothing as a coincidence.

            It just didn’t seem to matter that D could be anywhere.  This was where he was from, and maybe Leon had really been influenced some by what D had said, or maybe he was going senile, but it felt different than other places…older.  And D had seen this all, maybe as it was being created.  Maybe he’d seen this very wall as it was built.  Maybe he’d worn garments made from the silk traded on this road, ate food made with the spices…maybe he’d even travelled in a caravan, or simply been visited by the riders in one, making a pilgrimage to a temple or something. 

The entire place was tinged with melancholy.  When he was sitting here, looking out over all this…nothing…he could sorta figure D did have something to hold a grudge about.  Leon didn’t know even a quarter of the history of China, but he knew it wasn’t a happy one.  And D had got to see, if not all of it, a hell of a lot more than anyone could imagine.  Shit…Leon snorted at his own thoughts and his breath was visible on the air.  Damn, it was cold.

“Day dreaming, Detective?”

Leon jumped and did a double take when he saw the Chief hovering just over his shoulder.  “Holy shit!  You shouldn’t just sneak up on people like that!” He shouted, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.  He still wasn’t used to this whole talking head/screen thing, not to mention the fact that the Chief seemed to pop up whenever and wherever he felt.

The Chief made a clicking sound of disapproval.  “We’re really going to have to work on that mouth of yours.  Though…if Chloe is serious about having you join her department, I guess I wouldn’t have to hear it so much…”

Leon rolled his eyes, refusing to be reminded of D by this…computer programme.  “Was there a reason you scared the crap outta me, or do you just do that for fun?”

“I’ve already checked in with most of the other detectives on the case…though I’m interested to hear your opinion on the matter.”

“My opinion?  You mean, of just sitting out here?” Leon hissed a cold lungful of air between his teeth and considered it.  He knew he’d originally been all about staking out likely spots Carmen might visit, but after six hours yesterday and twelve hours today in the ass end of nowhere, he was beginning to rethink the situation.  He shrugged.  “I thought the clues made sense…”

The Chief remained silent, watching him and Leon went on uncertainly.  “Only at the hotel last night, some of the others were saying it was unlike Carmen to wait so long.  So I looked into some of her past cases.  Usually she steals one item only a few hours before the next, though sometimes there has been up to sixteen hours between thefts, at least along the same theme.  It’s been over two days, and we haven’t heard anything from her since the first crime, and nothing else has been stolen, that we know of.”

God, Leon was glad he’d never had to deal with this shit when he was with the LAPD.  It would have driven him crazy.

“I think what Leon’s trying to say, and I’m afraid to admit I have to agree, is that something’s wrong, Chief.” Leon turned around to see Zack approaching across the wall, picking his way delicately.

It seemed to be the general consensus, and Leon breathed a sigh of relief when the whole thing was called off and they returned to ACME HQ.  The place was in chaos when they got there, but it was a happy kinda chaos.  The Chief had disappeared somewhere in transit, and Leon caught someone by the sleeve in the break room and demanded to know what was up.

“The streets and the canals, they’re back!” The girl said, her face bright with joy.

“They’re just back?” Leon demanded sceptically.

She wasn’t any further help on how or why things had returned to normal, so Leon made his way back to the main office for the Carmen case.  The Chief was having a heated debate in Italian and while Zack looked like he was following, Ivy was sitting at the table, flipping idly through a file, looking as bored as Leon felt confused.

“What the hell’s going on?” He hissed.

Ivy shrugged.  “Carmen put it back the way it was.”

“Just like that?” Leon snapped.

Ivy gave him an impatient, annoyed look.  “Yeah, just like that.  Have you read the case files?  That’s what she does.  Most of the time.  I mean, sometimes we recover it.  And sometimes she keeps it.  But, who else in the world would figure out how to move all the streets in LA and all the canals in Venice?”

And that was what Leon had been saying for days.  “But what about the other clues?”

“Apparently she got distracted,” Ivy said simply.

Leon was going to demand what she meant by that, but then the Chief finished his conversation abruptly and said, “oh good, Leon.  You’re here too.  Okay, this one’s kinda messy, detectives.”

“What one?” Leon asked, looking around himself in bewilderment.

“Neo-Chinatown,” the Chief proclaimed, and his screen was taken over by a foreign skyline.  All the buildings were fantastically bright, but it wasn’t difficult to distinguish which was the one in question.  The building was far too tall to look like any traditional Chinese architecture, lacking the necessary details of a pagoda, but the shape of the roof, the bright façade and the dragon and lion statues at the entrance and gargoyles on the roof definitely stood out among the neon lights of the rest of the street.  “A relatively new construct in the Kabukichō district of Shinjuku.”

Leon’s heart leapt into his chest automatically, and he had to remind himself that Carmen was just as crazy as D had ever been, but that didn’t mean that one had anything to do with the other.  Just because Carmen had stolen something from Chinatown didn’t mean D was involved in anyway.

“What did she take?” Ivy asked with growing curiosity.  Leon supposed it was curious.  Carmen usually stole famous things.

“Heh heh…” the Chief laughed nervously.  “The whole thing.” Leon knew he was supposed to play surprised now, but he just couldn’t muster the emotion.  After the canal thing, he wasn’t sure there’d be anything to surprise him.

Ivy’s eyes widened a little.  “But why’s it messy, Chief?”

“Well…you see detectives…during the day, there are many reputable businesses within the building—restaurants, clothing shops, book stores, a theatre—but during the evening…It turns out the owner of the building and his grandson have ties to the Chinese mafia, and they’re being very evasive about the whole thing.  I guess worried that too much attention is a bad thing, so they didn’t want this looked into at all.  Only, several of the shop owners have been very vocal in their protests, and there are far too many of them to be silenced without drawing attention.”

This was starting to sound more and more like a case Leon would actually be interested in.  A mob boss plus Chinatown?  It was like the next best thing to actually finding D.

“What would Carmen want with this place, though?” Zack asked, frowning.  “It doesn’t have anything to do with the previous thefts.”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Zachary,” the Chief said, reverting back to his full screen.  “So why don’t you skip on over to the crime scene and find out?”

Zack grumbled a lot, but Ivy seemed pretty excited, and Leon knew she was something of a kindred spirit, the way she got about cases.  The more challenging and dangerous, the better. 

They arrived in Tokyo and it was the middle of the night, not much of a time difference from how it had been in China.  Leon was still getting used to the whole C-5 thing, which allowed him to get off easy without immediate jetlag, and was a surprisingly gentle ride.  All the same, it was very disorienting travelling such huge distances in the blink of an eye, and the landing was a bit off, sometimes dropping them several feet above the ground, or on top of buildings.  This time they landed in a side alley, and their fall was cushioned by a dumpster.

Leon climbed out and offered a hand to the other two, who were grumbling threats about the creator of the C-5 and picking garbage out of their hair and clothing.  Leon was practically bouncing with excitement.  He couldn’t wait to meet these guys in charge of the building.  The Chief had briefed them a bit more on the Laus in the C-5 corridor, and it seemed like they had their dirty fingers in every pie.  He hadn’t even realised how much he missed being a detective til just now.

The local police were still on the scene, but as the three of them approached, they seemed to recognise them as ACME and stepped aside.  This Lau guy had to be the grandson, and something about his fake ass smirk reminded Leon immediately of Wong.  He was impeccably dressed in a suit that probably cost more than a month’s pay for most people, but his hair was modern, kinda long in the front, a little prissy.  Leon had known he wasn’t going to like the guy, and everything about him was confirming it.

Zack approached him first, speaking in Cantonese, which always sounded like random gibberish to Leon, but Lau held up a hand and sneered at them.  “I can speak English,” Lau muttered disdainfully.  “Can we please conclude this interview quickly?  I am remarkably busy.”

Oh yeah.  A total dickhead.  “At two in the morning?” Leon asked under his breath.  The guy shot him a measuring look.

“I’m sorry.  I thought it was understood that this was a crime on the scale of Carmen Sandiego,” Lau said smoothly.  “Am I under some sort of suspicion?”

“No!” Zack said quickly, at the same time Leon said “yes!” and Ivy said, diplomatically, “well, it is strange, Mr. Lau, that you would prefer us not to recover the building.”

Lau’s shoulders stiffened.  “I do not quite understand what my modest creation might have done to attract the attention of Carmen Sandiego, but I would prefer to settle this myself.”

“Oh, I bet you would,” Leon muttered.

“Leon,” Ivy whispered and stepped hard on his toe.  “Mr. Lau, we will do our best to return you building quickly and with little incident.  But are you certain there’s nothing there Carmen would want to steal?  No interesting shop, no special artefact, nothing?”

“Detective, we have many fine establishments in Neo-Chinatown, and many delightful wares.  But certainly nothing that should bring a thief such as Sandiego to our doorstep, as I said.” Lau’s already thin patience was about to snap.

A cell phone rang and a moment later one of Lau’s men approached them.  Lau snapped the phone away and barked something into it.  There was a heated discussion and Leon couldn’t say why, but he felt a sick sensation in his stomach, like he was going down a roller coaster.  Before he could really pinpoint the reason why, Lau ended the call.  “Excuse me, detectives.  I think I have been as much help as I can be.  I must attend to business.”

Lau walked toward a limo and began speaking in a heated undertone to a middle-aged, overweight gentlemen.  Leon kept an eye on him even as Zack and Ivy began to discuss the case.  The older man approached them and bowed slightly.  “Mr. Lau would like me to inform you of one odd fact.  Another of your agents was here only a few days ago.  A retired ACME agent by the name of Suhara.”

This information seemed to mean something to Zack and Ivy, who exchanged meaningful looks.  “Could it possibly have something to do…” Zack began.

“It has to,” Ivy concluded.  “Come on, Zack.  Chief, where can we find Detective Suhara?”

“What was he saying?” Leon demanded.

“Who…what?” Zack asked, annoyed.

“On the phone, what did he say?” Leon snapped.

Zack narrowed his eyes.  “He called the guy a rude name, and then they just seemed to be trading insults for a minute.  And then he agreed to something the other guy said, and told him he’d meet him in an hour.”

“I’m following him,” Leon said, gesturing to Lau.

“But…we know now.  Suhara was Carmen’s partner.  Something must have happened here to do with him,” Zack protested.  “It would be a waste of time.”

“I don’t care if he didn’t have anything to do with this directly, that guy is dirty.”

“We’re here to catch Carmen, not to go after some mob guy,” Zack started, but Ivy interrupted him.

“Leave it off, Zack.  Go ahead, Leon.  Catch up with us back at HQ in a couple hours.”

Lau was in the back of his limo already, so Leon wasted no time in securing one of the taxis loitering around the scene.  It wasn’t until he was in the backseat that he remembered he spoke no Japanese, but between gesturing and the driver’s limited understanding of English, they worked it out that he would follow Lau’s limousine.

Leon sat back in his seat, an almost overwhelming anxiety in his stomach.  He was going to catch Carmen and then he was going to switch to homicide.  This felt right.  This felt real, like he was finally living his life again.  This was good.

 

Suhara had recently moved to Japan, so they didn’t even have to C-5 to visit him.  It was late, and they’d fought over whether or not to bother him the entire walk to his place, but it was settled when they arrived and could see a light on in the apartment.

“Sis…before we go up there…” Zack stopped her with a hand on her arm at the entrance.

“What is it, Zack?” She sounded vaguely impatient, but as with the past few days, she didn’t seem to be entirely with him.

“Are you okay?”

“What?” Ivy asked, wide-eyed.  “Zack, I’m fine.  I’ll be even better when we catch Carmen.” He knew he was probably just hearing things and she hadn’t actually said it half-choked.  “Come on.”

Suhara took several minutes to answer the door, and when he did, Zack had to hide a gasp at the sight of the man.  They hadn’t spoken in well over a year, but after Zack had got over his initial belief that Suhara was too old to be of any use, he’d realised Suhara wasn’t all that old anyway, and was a pretty cool guy.  Only now…he looked like he hadn’t slept in days, dark bags under his eyes.  He hadn’t shaved in a couple days, either, and he was looking more than a little rough around the edges.

“Can I help you, detectives?” He asked, his voice hoarse.  He bent to pick up the overlarge kitten that was weaving through his legs, holding it to his chest like they were threatening him and the cat was going to protect him.

“Hey, Suhara…can we come in?” Ivy asked delicately.

“It is rather late,” Suhara murmured, holding tighter to the kitten.

Ivy edged in and Suhara took a step back.  “Um…Suhara, did you know that Carmen stole something tonight, here in Tokyo?”

Suhara gave her a horrified look.  “How dare you come in here, saying things like that?” He shouted.  Zack felt his jaw drop, and Ivy took a step back.  Suhara pressed a kiss to the kitten’s head and walked to a door along the wall.  “Don’t you listen to anything they say, darling,” he whispered, and closed the kitten in the room.  “What do you want?” He hissed.

Ivy and Zack exchanged looks, and now more than ever they knew that whatever was going on, it had to do with Suhara.  “You visited Neo-Chinatown a few days ago?” Zack asked gently.

“What is it any business of yours?” Suhara asked.  He was standing in front of the door protectively.

“Well, Carmen stole the building.  And we were hoping you might know what she was after,” Zack explained.

“I think you had better leave, Zack, Ivy.”

“Bu—Suhara, I know you care for Carmen—we all do,” Ivy said softly.  Zack shot her a questioning look, but she didn’t pay him any attention, moving closer to Suhara.  “We just want to bring her in, get her some help.”

“We don’t need anyone’s help!” Suhara shouted hoarsely.  “We have each other.”

“Suha—”

“Get out, now.  Get out, or I’ll call the police!”

“Suhara?” Ivy reached out to touch him and he slapped her hands away.  Ivy jumped back as if stung.

“Come on, Sis,” Zack said warily, tugging by her elbow.  He kept his eye on Suhara as they left, unwilling to turn his back on the man.

“What the hell?” Ivy said, as they climbed back down to the street level.

“I sure don’t know,” Zack answered, “but I think when we find Carmen, we’ll figure out.”

Ivy tapped her wristwatch and the Chief responded almost at once.  They paused in the stairwell to speak with him.  They filled him quickly, watching his eyes widen in disbelief.  “What do you think’s going on, Chief?” Ivy asked, looking lost.

“I don’t have any idea,” the Chief, sounding as flabbergasted as he looked.  “Suhara was always our second best agent…of course, we all know what happened to the number one, so maybe—”

The Chief’s screen cut out to be replaced with a familiar logo bearing Carmen’s logo.  It wasn’t the first time Carmen had taken over the Chief’s frequency, and since she’d left no clues at the scene, Zack figured this was the best they were going to get.  But then Carmen’s face filled the screen and she looked dangerous in a way Zack had never known.

“Stay out of this one, detectives.  It does not concern you.”

The Chief returned a moment later, and his expression was one of disbelief.  “Chief,” Ivy said hesitantly.  “What do we do?”

Zack was trying to work it all out.  Certainly Suhara was behaving strangely, and maybe, just maybe, Leon had been right to follow that Lau guy.  What else could Suhara possibly have encountered at Neo-Chinatown that would have changed him so much?  It seemed impossible to believe that Suhara could have got himself involved with the Chinese mafia, but Lau had been kinda creepy.  Zack could imagine him getting something on Suhara and blackmailing him, or something.

            “We can’t just leave this to Carmen,” Ivy persisted.  “Lau was a jerk, and he’s definitely dangerous.  Who knows what might happen if he finds Carmen before we do.”

 

Carmen had known it wouldn’t take long for Count D to find her.  She wasn’t quite certain what he was, or how he had done to Suhara whatever he’d done.  Taking Neo-Chinatown was merely a way to show D that she was someone he must take seriously.  She would find out what he had done to Suhara, and it would be set straight.

The structure was truly magnificent, and Carmen wouldn’t have minded keeping it here on her land in northern Japan, but she didn’t really feel like dealing with the Laus.  Besides, with the exception of D, there was no saying that the occupants of the building deserved to have their livelihood taken away.

The roof was inaccessible, but two floors below, there was a false roof, narrow and running the length of the building, and from there Carmen watched the endless hills and valleys disappearing into the fog that hugged the land.  She knew the moment he arrived, could feel a seething, angry power.  This Count D was really very beautiful, dressed in a long mandarin collar jacket and matching pants, his dark hair curtaining his eyes, leaving his dangerous smirk bare.

“I am pleased you have come alone, Count, without your human friend,” Carmen said in a low voice.

That took D aback.  He paused, staring at her coolly.  “Come now.  How did you think I had managed to steal the entire building?” Carmen asked, smiling at his displeasure. 

“You’re a goddess?” D asked.  He didn’t sound convinced of it.  He must have realised his own powers far exceeded hers.  Still, she had cards to play that would convince him to see things her way.

“That sounds so ridiculous, don’t you think?” Carmen asked, walking toward him.  “I suppose, if you must classify me, demi-goddess would be the most fitting.”

D narrowed his eyes, following her with his gaze as she moved.  “What do you want with this building?”

“I am afraid, Count, that one of my friends has crossed your path.  The contract he has signed with you is causing him no small amount of discomfort,” Carmen explained.  “I know that you are far more powerful than I could ever hope to be, and I cannot force your hand.  But it would mean so much to me, and to my father, Hermes, if you could be of assistance.” She may not have had the closest relationship with her father, but she knew the benefit of dropping his name.  D probably knew as well as she that she wouldn’t call on Hermes for help in this situation, but it didn’t hurt to let him know her stock.

“You play your part quite nicely,” D told her evenly.

Carmen grinned.  “From you, that is high praise indeed,” Carmen purred.  For a moment, she thought he might scratch her eyes out.

“Very well,” D said, clasping his hands primly in front of himself.  “I believe I remember your friend.  He purchased a kitten from me.  To fill the void you left in his life, if I am not mistaken.”

“You’re blaming this on me?” Carmen asked dangerously, stalking toward him.

D stood his ground, looking unimpressed.  “My pets choose their masters.  They see far more than you or I, to the core of a human—the essential good or bad—and do their best to ensure their human receives precisely what he or she deserves.”

“And Suhara deserves this?” Carmen demanded.  “If it really is my fault, for leaving him, then why is he the only being punished?”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” D said, lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug.  Carmen wasn’t a violent person by any stretch of the imagination, but something about this guy made her want to grab him and shake the cool off him.  “Some humans deal with this better than others.  And some, like Suhara, refuse to deal at all, pretending instead to be unaffected.  Suhara has chosen his own punishment.”

“How was it Suhara’s fault, my leaving?” Carmen asked, stopping short.  Suhara had been a good friend, a father before she’d known whom hers was.  She had regretted hurting him, and the Chief, the most, when she left, but she could say honestly that they’d been no part of why she’d left ACME.

“It was not, except in his own mind,” D said simply.

“So instead of just letting him torture himself over nothing, you gave him a pet to make it worse?” Carmen asked humourlessly.

“Suhara-san came to me,” D pointed out.  “I merely act as an intermediary between the pets and their masters.  Both Suhara and Carmen must learn the same lesson.  Together, they will survive, or perish.”

“No!” Carmen made her voice hard and cold.

“Of course,” D said slowly, his voice dripping with poison, “I allowed this to proceed unknowing of the protection you, and by proxy, your father, provide for Suhara-san.  I am afraid I cannot interfere; however, if anyone can help resolve the situation, it would be you.”

“He doesn’t even recognise me anymore!” Carmen snapped.  It had been terrifying, watching Suhara look everywhere but her eyes when he spoke.  His eyes had been glassy, dull, lifeless.  He spoke like she was a ghost.

D nodded thoughtfully.  “He has come to believe that the kitten is Carmen.  I am surprised that someone of your heritage does not see her true form—but then, you Greeks have always been rather obtuse.”

Carmen refused to take the bait.  “If she is me, then how do I fix things?”

“She is not you,” D said firmly.  “And therein lies the problem.  She is young, bright and precocious.  She shares many of those fine qualities Suhara-san attributes to you.  And she is an orphan, desperate for love and attention, which Suhara-san is all to glad to give her.  But in seeing you in her, Suhara has refused her an identity of her own.  And so, rather than helping one another grow, they are merely reliving what has passed.”

Carmen was beginning to see the shape of things, to understand what must follow.  “This damage is not irreparable,” D said softly, the closest thing to kind Carmen had heard of him, and still no where near close.  He was colder than she’d ever managed, and so distant and removed.  She knew it was not his godhood that made him so, and wondered, just for a moment, what had done it.

“Now, you must return this place,” D said, his voice steel wrapped in silk.

Footsteps sounded heavily on the metal stairwell, and Carmen was unsurprised that D had opened the building to others.  A moment later, the access door burst open and Lau Uu Fei came onto the roof, a gun in hand.

“Put that away!” D snapped impatiently, and Carmen fought the urge to raise her brows in surprise when the man complied at once.  D smiled falsely.  “Thank you.  I believe Ms. Sandiego and I have come to an amicable resolution.”

“Ms. Sandiego?” Lau echoed under his breath, staring between the two of them in disbelief.  “And why’d you take it in the first place, Ms. Sandiego?” Lau said.  “I am most intrigued to know what reason you might have had.”

“I do not believe it is any business of yours, Mr. Lau,” Carmen said icily.

Lau’s eyes lit up and he turned to face D.  “So this is about you,” he surmised.

D sighed, and opened his mouth, no doubt to cut the man apart with his words.  Only then a voice said, “Game’s up, Carmen,” and a powerful shudder went through D’s frame, his eyes widening, his jaw going slack.

Carmen turned, curious.  It was not Zack or Ivy who had spoken, which meant it could only be their new partner.  She was very interested in seeing this man for herself.  He was handsome, just manly enough not to be called pretty, with long yellow gold hair like a lion’s mane and startlingly blue eyes.  His height and build were impressive, the sign of a man who took good care of his body.  He was impetuous, too, she could tell at a glance.  He’d come for her, bursting onto the roof, handcuffs brandished, but now he was staring at D in much the same way D was staring at him.

For a moment, it was as if time had stopped.  The tension between them was palpable, and not just because Carmen had a preternatural awareness.  Lau’s gaze was flicking back and forth between the two men, a possessive, dangerous gleam in his eyes.  Carmen was most intrigued, but knew her avenue of escape when she saw it presented to her. 

Taking advantage of Leon’s distraction, Carmen moved to the ledge of the roof.  She could travel in many ways without the assistance of human devices, but she always kept some on her for show.  Now she released one of the gadgets Sara had created, a pair of electric wings, which snapped out from her jacket, spreading behind her.

Leon looked at her, then back at D, as if torn.  “It…” He looked back at Carmen, and there was anguish in his eyes.  “You!” He said, and jabbed a finger at D.  “You stay!  Right there!”

Carmen laughed and threw herself over the building, feeling the frozen moment of panic and delight she always felt when jumping from a height, never quite believing her ability to stay aloft until it was tested.  “Congratulations on finding me, Detective,” she called to Leon.  “I can see having you on the case is going to make things far more…interesting.”

Leon looked at D once more, and then, to Carmen’s disbelief and amazement, he threw himself over the edge of the building after her. 

It was a moment suspended in time.  Leon didn’t have quite enough height to reach her and D was after him in a second, gripping the railing.  “Leon!” He cried out in terror, and Leon was buoyed up by the air, grabbing Carmen’s ankle.  He clung to her, his face ashen but determined.  Carmen glanced back to D, who had collapsed against the railing, looking stricken.

Leon’s weight dragged them down, and Carmen made herself land on the roof.  He’d certainly earned her capture, even if she would not allow it to last for long.  She was even cooperative as he cuffed one of her wrists to his.  D seemed to have regained his composure, and was arguing heatedly with Lau near the stairwell.  Leon looked most displeased by this, biting and twisting his lips and shooting them angry glares.

“You!” He said again, stalking toward D.  Carmen was pulled along, but was too amused to be annoyed.  “You’re coming too.”

D spun around immediately, and Lau looked put out that his argument had been interrupted.  He was clearly a man used to getting his way.  D arched a brow at Leon, his face a calm mask, completely disinterested, as if he hadn’t passionately cried the other man’s name only moments before.  “Detective?” He used the word like a weapon.  Carmen was quite impressed.

“Yeah, well, I don’t trust you, see,” Leon growled.  “Crazy, but I guess it comes from getting pushed off a ship.”  D scowled, and now Carmen was really curious.

“Need I remind you that I was the victim in this affair?” D said archly.

Carmen had always been inquisitive by nature, and she was dying to know about the history between these two, fascinated watching the play between them.  Lau was too, though he looked furious about it.

“My ass,” Leon snapped.  “You may be a lot of things, D, but the day you’re anyone’s victim is the day hell freezes over.”

D pursed his lips.  “Regardless, Detective, as usual, you have no evidence to back up your claims.”

“And as usual, I don’t fuckin’ care,” Leon said, his tone smug and superior.  They were kind of cute.  Carmen fought the urge to smile.  And then, quick as a flash, Leon had another pair of cuffs around one of D’s wrists.  D regarded it in a sort of mute amusement as Leon fixed the other end around his free wrist.  Carmen figured they must have made a rather ridiculous sight, the chain of them.

“Excuse me,” Lau said, voice cold and brittle, “but I don’t think you can just arrest someone without just cause.” 

“You’re lucky I’m not arresting your ass, too,” Leon growled, jabbing a finger at Lau.  Carmen let him move her hand, rather amused at it all.

Lau’s fingers flexed on his gun like he was getting ready to use it, and D sighed.

“It is alright, Taizu,” D said, placating.  Though his voice was even and more than a little superior, Carmen could hear his heart beating rapidly.  “I will return shortly.  I am positive that Detective Orcot will soon see that he has made a mistake.”

“Yeah,” Leon returned.  “The only mistake I made was not doing this a long time ago.”  D gave him an exasperated look and Leon grinned smugly.  He pushed a button on his wrist watch.  “Hey Chief, I need a C-5 corridor back to HQ.”

“Leon!  Where have you been, we’ve been worried si—” The Chief’s eyes widened in disbelief when they fell upon Carmen.  She gave him a wry grin.

“Hello, Chief.”

 

D looked slightly bemused when they arrived at ACME, though unruffled despite the method of transport.  In fact, he looked as perfect as he ever had.  Leon guessed, if he really thought about it, he was surprised to see that D looked precisely the same as he had when they’d last seen one another.  Same inscrutable eyes, same painted lips, same smooth, perfect skin.  He looked as though he hadn’t aged a day—even his hair was the same length.  The only difference was his clothing—the black of the fabric made him look especially pale, but not in a bad way, and the strange sight of D in his sleeveless, high collared jacket and close cut pants—something Leon had only seen a few times before—made his mouth feel oddly dry.

ACME was in chaos around them.  Somehow, in the five minutes they spent travelling to San Francisco in the C-5, word had spread all over that Carmen had been captured and everyone had crowded in the cavernous room that Ivy and Zack used as their office.  Chloe was there, hanging toward the back, and spared him a brief smile and a thumbs up to show she was pleased, and he had performed his task sufficiently.  Better than, he’d like to think, considering that Zack and Ivy had never caught her.

Within minutes the police had arrived and taken Carmen into custody.  She gave Leon a sly smile before she left.  It was amazing how even with her face so concealed, a single eye had the power to pin him into place.  “Congratulations, Leon.  I do so look forward to seeing you again.”

Leon didn’t bother to tell her that wasn’t likely.  He wasn’t all too sure that any cell was going to hold for any amount of time, but even if she did break out, he’d proved himself, and that meant he got to move to Homicide.  He looked around and was surprised that he didn’t see Zack or Ivy…but then he was having trouble concentrating on anything much, really.

In all the tumult, no one seemed to notice D, who stood so close to Leon it was kinda hard to think.  Of course, it was only because they were handcuffed together, but that was just fine with Leon.  This was what he’d been after for five fucking years, and it didn’t matter that now that he’d found D he had no idea what to say or do.  He just knew he wasn’t letting D out of his sight until he’d figured it out.

“Congrats!” Thom came up behind him, smacking him on the back.  Leon saw D make a face at that before he turned to face his colleague.  “You know, you’re the first ACME agent to bring her in…well, except Lee Jordan, but it turned out he was a crook, too, so…”  Thom shrugged.  “Anyway, for the new guy, you’ve done an amazing job.  Set the standard pretty high.”

Leon nodded his head vaguely.  “Hey Leon!  Party in the break room!”  Someone shouted, and Leon waved his hand, pretty sure he’d never met the woman before.  Thom laughed and followed the crowd that was making its way out the door.  Fighting against the crush of bodies, Ivy and Zack pushed their way in.

“Is it true?” Ivy demanded frantically.

Zack was regarding Leon was grudging respect.  “That was pretty cool,” he said, holding out a fist.  Leon used his free hand to tap it with his own. 

“Then you did catch her?” Ivy asked, eyes narrowed.

“Chill out, Sis,” Zack said with an easy grin.  “Or are you disappointed that the guy you got hired beat us at our job?”  Leon was taking it so well.  He’d have expected Zack to be the one to be bothered by it all.

“How’d you do it?” Ivy asked.  Leon looked at her—really looked at her—for the first time since she’d come into the room, and was surprised by her ashen colour and her wide eyes.

“Excuse me.” D’s voice was chilly, at best.

For the first time, everyone seemed to take note of the man at Leon’s side.  Zack arched a brow at the handcuff’s linking them together and the Chief gave them both a dubious look, but Ivy didn’t seem to care in the least.  “Where did you find her?  How did you manage to catch her?”

“Uh, Leon,” the Chief began hesitantly.  “Care to explain?”

“I think I figured out why Carmen stole that building,” Leon explained a strange feeling of excitement and achievement building up in his chest.

“It was because of Suhara,” Ivy said dismissively.  “We already knew that.”

Well, it made sense.  It was unlikely that Carmen herself had purchased one of D’s pets.  She probably didn’t regularly hang out in Japan’s Chinatown, anyway.  But if someone she cared about had been affected, Leon had no doubt she’d go to any means to help.  And Leon had read over all of Carmen’s files, before and after she left ACME.  After all the time she spent with Suhara, he knew they must have formed a relationship.

“Yeah.  Because of something he” jerked his head at D “sold Suhara.”

D stiffened.  “This again?” He murmured derisively.

“Leon, you can’t just go around making accusations like that,” the Chief said.  Something in his frown told Leon that he was slightly suspicious of D too, and that was already one better than the chief back in LA had ever given him.  “Do you have any proof?”

“Oh, yes,” D said, with that fake, dangerous grin of his. “Please, Detective, tell us about your proof.”

“Why were you up on the roof with Carmen?  And what were you doing with Lau?” Leon snapped.

“Certainly I was concerned with the recovery of the building.  It contains my pet shop, and my pets are very dear to me.  I would expect you to know that,” D sniffed haughtily.  “And as for Taizu…well, I can not help it if suspicious men are drawn to me, and have the tendency to make wild claims.”

“Leon?” the Chief prompted.

Leon sighed.  “I don’t have anything concrete.  But I bet you anything if we check out his pet shop we’ll find something.”

“Oh dear…” D looked at him with something akin to tenderness, and it made Leon’s heart jump into his throat.  “And I had rather thought we had got past this.”

“Yeah,” Leon said, pitching his voice low, for D only.  He turned to face him more fully, leaning into him, his breath stirring D’s hair.  “I thought so, too.  But then I woke up in a hospital to find you had disappeared.”  He tried not to think about it.  Tried to forget the feeling, every time he woke up, like he’d been left all over again…

“Uh…”

Zack’s voice made Leon start.  He’d entirely forgot that there was anyone else in the room.  Everyone was staring at them strangely, and Leon leaned back out of D’s personal space.  Even D seemed a little startled—well, as startled as D could ever be, when nothing seemed to ever surprise him.  His lips were parted just slightly, and his eyes were wide.

“Leon, if you want to check out his place, you’re going to have to get something from Carmen.  And you’ve got some serious paperwork to fill out with the local police.  And a party to attend.  And probably a million interviews with every newspaper, magazine, television show and radio station in this nation and several others, too.”  It was a pity the Chief was a computer programme; he never ran out of breath.

“But—”

“Leon, you have to uncuff him,” the Chief said bluntly.

Leon bit the inside of his lip to keep from crying out in protest.  He glanced at D, expecting him to look smug, but his expression was unfathomable.  He took a deep breath and suddenly he had the most embarrassing feeling, like he was going to start crying.  “You’d better not go anywhere,” He told D fiercely.  Jesus Christ, he sounded so weak, so desperate.

“Please,” D said faintly.  He held up their joined hands.  “Release me.”

He knew better.  He’d come so far for this.  He undid the cuffs and D took his wrist in his other hand, rubbing it gently.  Leon wasn’t fooled.  No way was a cuff going to hurt D.  D might have said he was obtuse, and that he never learned, but D didn’t give him enough credit.  “Don’t go anywhere.”  And it was horrifying that it sounded more like a plea than an order.

“I’m sorry about this,” the Chief said with an embarrassed smile.  “If you’ll just follow me, I’ll have you transported back to your home.”

Leon looked after them until the door closed behind them, unable to take his gaze away from D’s back, the way he moved his hips, the graceful glide of his feet.  He had just let him walk out the door…was he fucking insane?  Paper work be damned.  His feet moved almost on their own, but then Ivy was blocking his path, hands on her hips.

“Leon!” she shouted.  He looked down at her, and felt like he was stuck in a daze.  Even though D was gone, Leon was captivated.

“What?” he mumbled.

“You…you…” She seemed at a lost, and Leon noticed her eyes were red, like she was tired, or had been crying.

“What is it?” he asked, now in earnest.  Whatever could make Ivy cry had to be a big deal.  She didn’t seem like the sort to let her emotions get the best of her.

Ivy sat down heavily at the table, and Leon and Zack exchanged concerned looks.  Zack moved to stand behind her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “I just…I don’t understand.” Her tone was belligerent, but her eyes told a different story.  “You just come in here, out of no where, and catch Carmen before the week is out?”

“I thought that was the point,” Leon said, trying to be delicate but growing annoyed.  Everyone else seemed pretty pleased about it.  What the hell was Ivy’s deal?

“We don’t catch Carmen,” Ivy said forcefully, her tone bitter.  “Where the hell is Isabel, anyway?” She asked in an undertone, wringing her hands in her lap.

“You don’t catch Carmen?” Leon repeated dully.

“Who’s Isabel?” Zack interrupted.

Ivy gave him a scathing look.  “Isabel Méchants,” she said.  “V.I.L.E.’s lawyer.”

“Lee Galease is already here.  He showed up almost before Carmen did,” Zack said, laughing a little.  “Of course, it’s difficult to understand anything out of his mouth.”

Ivy glared at him effectively enough to cut off his laughter.  “Carmen only keeps Galease on because she never gets caught…” Here she shot her powerful glare at Leon.  “Or, at least, she never did.”

“Hey!” Leon snapped, raising his hands defensively.  “I’m pretty sure that’s how this whole detective thing is supposed to work.  It isn’t my fault you didn’t get there first.”

“Where is Isabel, though?” Ivy asked, looking around as if she would suddenly appear just because Ivy wanted it.  “I’ve tried calling her office twice, and her secretary is useless.  You’d think Carmen Sandiego would be a big enough name to get someone’s attention.”

As if she suddenly realised where she was, she glanced up at Leon.  “I know it isn’t your fault.  I mean, not really.  We say ‘catch Carmen.’  But it never happens, because, because…” She stopped and swallowed, and looked a little frantic.  “Well, she’s Carmen.  So, when we say catch Carmen, we really mean just chase her.  No one ever…ever…” She looked closed to tears, and Leon couldn’t be angry anymore.  Even Zack seemed to understand.

Leon thought about D, about always chasing and never getting, and he kinda understood.  If someone else, someone new had just butted in, after all these years, and taken all the credit.  Yeah.  He could get it.

“I’ll go try calling Ms. Méchants’ office again,” Zack offered, and dashed off.

Ivy let out a frustrated sigh and put her head in her hands.  “This is so ridiculous.  We’ve been after her for years.  This is what we want, I just…”  She shook her head and laughed, though it had more than an edge of hysteria in it.  “I just…”

“I get it,” Leon promised her.

“Yeah?” She smiled at him sadly.

“Yeah…like…you spend so long wanting something, and it’s always there, right in front of you, but always just out of reach, and you get confused about what you really want and what you’re supposed to want.”

“And everyone’s telling you you’re supposed to want one thing, and you’re telling yourself that, too, but you can only fool yourself so long,” Ivy finished.

There were too many ‘someones’ and too much ‘wanting’ and Leon was starting to get uncomfortable with the conversation.  He frowned at the tabletop, clasping his hands together. 

“She’s going to get out again,” Leon said, hoping that was helpful.

“Yeah.”  Then Ivy laughed like before and Leon was horrified when a few tears escaped the corners of her eyes.  He didn’t know how to deal with crying.  He was shit at this sorta thing.  Where the hell was Zack? 

“She’ll get out, and nothing changes,” Ivy murmured.  She looked around again.  “Where is Isa…” She stopped, and her eyes widened and she slumped back in her chair like she’d just seen a ghost.

“What?” Leon demanded, looking around too, but seeing nothing.  “What is it?”

“Oh my god…I can’t believe I didn’t see it!  And she must have been laughing at me the entire time.”

Leon didn’t bother asking who she was talking about—she seemed lost in her own thoughts and he doubted he’d get a satisfactory answer.

“I thought she was…they were…” Ivy seemed to be having some sort of mini-epiphany and Leon wasn’t going to stand in the way.  She sighed.  “Zack would have known.  They’re the smart ones, but poor, stupid Ivy can’t see what’s right in front of her face!

“I can try to kid myself, but I’m not kidding anyone else.  She’s always going to toy with me.  She’s always going to be better than me…” She had descended into babbling, the tears coming a little more quickly.

Maybe Leon would have his own epiphany.  “Ivy.  I’m sorry, but I gotta go.”  He reached across the table and put his hand over hers.  “But I know this: you’re brave, and you’re smart, and you’re beautiful…and you’re better than Carmen, because at least you’re honest with yourself.”

Zack came dashing into the room and skidded to a stop at the table, panting.  “Sis…I couldn’t reach her, but, but…” He stopped and took a deep breath and then grinned, just a little.  “But Carmen got away.”

“What?” Ivy demanded, at the same moment Leon said “already?”

Zack could only shrug.  Leon had honestly thought it would take longer than that.  Though, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, considering how brief her other incarcerations had been.  And anyway, it wasn’t up to him anymore.  He was done with this Carmen bullshit.  And if Ivy’s reaction to it all was any indication, that was probably for the best.

Ivy looked up at him like she was lost.  “I’m sorry.  I’ve got to go,” Leon repeated, and dashed out the door, hoping he wasn’t too late.

 

            Taizu had been most tiresome when D had arrived back in Tokyo.  The building was still missing, but unsurprisingly, Taizu’s family owned several buildings in the area.  When he suggested they use the upper floor of a hostess club they ran, D fought the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust.  He listened to Taizu rant about Carmen, and then Leon, and didn’t miss the dangerous look in his eye when the detective was brought up.

            “How’d you know him?” Taizu demanded, like D owed him the truth, or anything at all, actually.  But D didn’t feel he had anything to say to Taizu whatsoever.  In fact, there was very little he needed at all, besides to pack up the pet shop and get away, quickly.

            D was saved from having to answer by the arrival of one of Taizu’s men, rushing to tell them that Carmen had got away from her captors and returned Neo-Chinatown to its rightful place.  D had known it would happen, and knew Carmen was capable, but all the same, he felt a cold tingling relief wash over him at the news.

            The pets were in good condition, if somewhat rattled by the experience.  “Quickly,” D said to them, as he dashed about the main room.  “We must pack at once.”

            Tet-chan looked dubious.  “We’re moving again?” He asked, clearly unimpressed.  Well, if he did not like it, he did not have to stay at the pet shop.

            “But why?” Pon-chan asked.  “Is it because of that woman?”

            “No, it…” D paused, and calmed himself.  He would not allow Leon to get him so worked up.  “No,” he answered more slowly.  He smoothed back his hair and took a breath.  “We have stayed in Tokyo too long.  As with Los Angeles, I have allowed myself to become too comfortable.  I have allowed Taizu too close.”

            Ten-chan snorted.  “Yeah, right.”  He was resting lazily on the chaise, and D did not think he quite understood D’s urgency.  “So it has nothing to do with the fact that Leon knows you’re here?”

            D stopped dead in his tracks and he heard Pon-chan gasp.  “What?” Tet-chan said loftily.  “Didn’t think we’d smell him all over you the minute you walked in?”  D looked between the two of them, with identical smirks, and refused to allow his displeasure show on his face.

            “Very well.  You know the reasoning then, and you must certainly agree.  I must pack of the shop at once, before—”

            The doors flew open with enough force to knock into the walls, and D knew of only one person so presumptuous.  “Planning a trip?” Leon asked casually.  D had to fight the shiver than wanted to course through him.

            Years had passed…any strange affection he had once felt for the man was gone entirely.  And so, why did he feel this particular conflict, the need to run but the inability to move?  He made sure his face was entirely composed before he turned to meet Leon’s eyes.

            “I don’t see any flying boats around,” Leon said.  He moved around the room as if he’d been visiting for years, though this receiving room was nothing like the one in Los Angeles.  He seemed entirely at ease, yet the set of his shoulders and the glint in his eye told D a different story—he just wasn’t certain what it was.

            “Flying boats, Detective?” D asked politely tossing back his hair with a flip of his chin.  “Sounds like the sort of nonsense you disdain.”

            Leon shrugged and strolled around the room, taking in everything.  “Guess bein’ around you can change a guy’s perspective,” he said, and not all nicely.

            “Well, but yours has always been such a limited one,” D shot back.  “And you haven’t been around me.”

            Leon went tense all over, gaze snapping to D’s face.  “Don’t I know it?”  His tone was low and dangerous and D’s stomach clench and an unbearable heat spread through his chest and up his neck.  He met Leon’s eyes hesitantly, and they were vulnerable despite his words.  The room was suddenly uncomfortably warm.

            “Perhaps we should…” Ten-chan murmured.

            “Yes,” Tet-chan agreed, standing.

            “Let’s leave them to it,” Pon-chan whispered, and the three of the disappeared into the back of the shop, leaving D alone.  He could handle Leon.  He had many times before, and so why did he have to fight the urge to call out for them in desperation, not to leave him by himself?

            Silence fell over the room, and never had D been made to feel so awkward in his own shop—his own home!  He moved his hands to clasp them in front of himself, but they were clammy and he dropped them, and realised he was fidgeting for want of something with which to occupy himself.

            “Tea?” He asked, and could not believe his own voice was so weak.  He turned to go to the sideboard where the tea tray sat, but he’d barely made it two steps before Leon’s fist was around his arm, yanking hard, spinning him around.

            He could pull away.  He could fight back.  He could break Leon’s hand with a mere flick of his wrist.  He could do anything at all, and Leon would be at his mercy.  So why was he frozen?  Why was he watching impassively as Leon took a step nearer?  Just watching as Leon invaded his personal space.  Watching until he felt Leon’s breath on his lips and then he let his eyes fall closed and just felt.

            Until that moment, he had not realised.  Certainly he thought of Leon.  The man had occupied much of his time, far more than D had allowed any human to before.  And Leon had brought Chris, who had, in his own way, been very important to D.  Of course it had been difficult to be free of Leon’s memory, just as it was difficult to shake a particularly nasty virus.  Which was all humans were…

            And that explained the nights kept awake, the afternoons lost in daydreaming, the unexpected and unpleasant disappointed drop in his stomach when the doors opened and it was Taizu instead of Leon. 

            D whimpered into the kiss, and opened his mouth in welcoming, not, necessarily because he wanted to, but because he had no choice.  Leon took the invitation, first hesitantly licking D’s top lip, then over the roof of D’s mouth.  D couldn’t stop the shiver that went through him at the sensation, and brought his arms up around Leon’s neck lightly.

            Upon reflection, perhaps D should have seen this coming sooner.  Leon had always had the remarkable ability to surprise D, which was something humans never did.  He was such an ill-tempered man, loud, obnoxious, rude, and sometimes violent…yet now he was so gentle.  He held D as if afraid he might break, and D had known worship before, but never like this.

            “Leon,” he managed, pulling back just a little, but their lips still brushed when he spoke.  He realised belatedly he’d spoken the man’s name, but given the situation, it seemed only fair to give Leon this little pleasure.

            Leon looked at him, his eyes slightly glazed, his cheeks flushed, and then kissed him again, putting his arms around D’s waist, drawing him closer.  Not nearly close enough. 

            Was this what grandfather had warned him against?  Was this that awful thing of which grandfather had spoken time and time again, the great danger loving a human presented to their kind?  Was this what had sent him running from Leon in Los Angeles and Berlin, and has almost made him run again?

            Perhaps grandfather had been confused by the sensations, for they were so close to the ones associated with sickness…perhaps he had dismissed this wonderful fluttering in his stomach for nausea and the heat rising in his chest as fever.  Perhaps no one strong and firm like Leon had been there to catch him when the delicious dizziness set in.  The only thing dangerous about this, the only pain, would be to not have more, and not have it again.

            As if sensing his thoughts, Leon’s arms tightened, forcing all the air from D’s chest.  He gasped into their kiss and it excited Leon, made him kiss harder, deeper.  Tentatively, D moved his own tongue, letting it slide along Leon’s and that inflamed him further.  D knew very well the effect he had on Leon, felt it pressed intimately against his hip.  D moved his own hips hesitantly, letting his own growing desire be felt, and Leon jerked violently.

            “Holy shit,” Leon panted heavily and rested their foreheads together.  D could not think of a response, not even a remonstration.  He blinked, staring fixedly at Leon’s lips, bright red and wet.  Leon tilted his head and shocked a gasp out of D by kissing his jaw, the place where it met his throat.  His kisses went lower, down the line of his neck, making the heat in D’s chest drop down to his gut, straight to his arousal.

            “Please, Leon,” D cried, and barely recognised the words or the voice as his own.  Leon didn’t stop, sucked hard at a place on D’s throat that made him scream and made his legs buckle.  “Please, let us take this to the bed,” D murmured, clinging to Leon’s shoulders to keep on his feet.

            The distance to his bedroom was but a few mere feet, yet it seemed impossibly long.  Leon would not stop touching him, and D would probably not know what to do with himself if he did.  Every wall was a place against which Leon could press him, every chair something over which Leon could bend him, licking kisses from D’s mouth.  They pushed through the doors leading to the back, stumbled blindly up the stairs and at last they made it to D’s bedroom.

            This, at least, was familiar territory.  Though the building housing the pet shop might change, the shop itself, and all its many rooms remained the same.  This room, his chamber, was as it always had been, and gave D a sense of being in control.  He removed himself from Leon’s embrace effortlessly, darting just out of reach of Leon’s pursuing hands.

            “Ah-ah,” He said, smiling softly, teasingly.  He did not quite understand this giddiness he felt, particularly given the serious nature of what they were about to do, but he could not dismiss this lightness of heart, this sudden and so very welcome lifting of the oppression on his desires.  Here was Leon, and though it may have taken him long to realise it, this was what he wanted.

            Leon stood motionless by the door, waiting, watching.  There was a hesitant smile on his face, as though pleased, but still unsure of how this would proceed.  D stepped out of his slippers and Leon echoed the move, toeing off his shoes and socks and kicking them aside.  D hesitated only a moment before starting on the clasps of his jacket, baring first his throat, and working his way down.

            Never had he been so naked before a human’s eyes, as his collarbone came into view.  Even in his camisole he felt very bare, very vulnerable, but Leon watched his movements like a starved man, gaze fixing on each bit of flesh as it was bared, and when D shrugged off the jacket, he did so feeling powerful despite his vulnerability.  Even as new as he was to this, he knew this balance between Leon and himself was a good thing.

            Leon shucked his own t-shirt, and D wanted to take in every inch of him, but Leon was quick, closing the distance between them.  He took D’s shoulders in his hand and kissed him.  His fingers were rough and fumbled with the straps of D’s camisole, rolling them down his arms.  D worked with him, freeing himself of the straps and wriggling the camisole over his hips and letting it fall to the floor.

            They were flesh to flesh now, and though D had felt warm before, it was nothing compared to the heat of Leon’s skin.  He let his fingers touch hesitantly at first, feeling the hard muscle of Leon’s stomach that rippled under D’s fingers.  He flattened his hands to Leon’s chest, smoothed up, catching on the wrinkled texture of a scar, over his shoulders, where he found another scar. 

            D abandoned the kiss, because there was so much else to explore.  He pressed a kiss to the scar at Leon’s shoulder, tracing the edge with his nail.  He had heard that scar tissue was insensate, but from the way Leon shivered, it was not so with him.  He opened his mouth over the spot, tasting.  Leon’s skin tasted inevitably of salt, but also of soap.  He cupped D’s head in appreciation, his fingers gentle in D’s hair, encouraging.  D needed little encouragement.

            Slowly, he mapped out the terrain of Leon.  Fingers over the sculpted muscles of his shoulders and upper arms, lips over his chest, tongue up his collarbone, up his neck, teeth around his earlobe, nails scrapping his nipples, til Leon was groaning and unable to keep from returning the favour.  It should have been awkward, both of them straining for new places to suck and bite and touch and lick, but somehow it worked splendidly.

            Then Leon’s hands smoothed down D’s back, fingers light on his spine, making him arch into Leon’s body.  He toyed with the waist of D’s trousers, asking without words.  D answered by undoing the button of Leon’s jeans, drawing down the zipper.  He stepped back from Leon, toward his bed, and let his pants flutter to the ground.

            Naked now, as he’d never been in front of another being since infancy, he had to fight the urge to cover himself with his hands, to grab his comforter and shield himself from sight.  The look Leon was giving him, hungry and desperate, helped.  He sat delicately on the edge of the bed and pushed himself toward the centre, waiting for Leon to join him.

            Leon rid himself of his jeans and underwear all at once and practically pounced on D.  D laughed, and was surprised by the sound, but it seemed to please Leon, who smiled so honestly it made D’s heart pound almost painfully in his chest.  They lay back together exchanging kisses, and D felt hesitantly between them til his fingers brushed the silky hard skin of Leon’s erection.  Leon grunted and flexed his hips, so D closed his fist around Leon, moving slowly up and down.

            “Christ, D,” Leon muttered, and kissed his neck.  D did not become any more used to it with repetition—every touch of Leon’s lips made goosebumps rise, made shivers of hot and cold run through him, made him twist and writhe to get away, because he was not certain he could stand very much of this intense pleasure.

            Leon pushed himself up on his hands and knees, and sat back on his heels, trapping D.  D let go of his grip, dropping his hands to his side and letting Leon get his look.  Leon whispered something under his breath, and bent his head.  His hair tickled D’s chin, his lips were light on D’s chest.  D brought his hands up to touch, but Leon caught him by the wrists and pushed them back to the bed.  He lifted his head just slightly to look at him.  “Let me,” he murmured.

            D closed his eyes and took a breath to relax, though it did not entirely help.  He was too tense all over, quivering with sensations entirely new to him.  Leon kissed him all over, sometimes sucking to life tender spots that D knew would show purple and pink on his skin.  For a perverse moment he thought about wearing a neckline that would allow Taizu to see them, but then Leon bit down on a nipple and D forgot thought altogether, and it was only sensation.

            It was only the slick rush of moisture between his thighs as Leon suckled his nipple, the way he spread his legs for Leon, bucked his hips, needed Leon.  The back of Leon’s hand brushed up his thigh, the touch exciting and frustrating.  “You—” Leon made a startled noise and pulled back.  “You’re wet,” he said, his brow wrinkled.

            D could only nod and make a slight noise of agreement.  Of course he was wet.  Every touch from Leon made him even more so.  But Leon seemed to find this strange.  One hand closed around D’s erection, making him sob in relief, but then Leon’s other hand slipped lower, urging his legs further apart.  D moved to accommodate him and the tip of Leon’s finger found his opening.  “Oh!” D shrieked, unable to stop himself, and clamped his thighs shut around Leon’s wrist.          Leon grinned and wriggled his finger deeper.

            “Oh, Leon,” D panted, squirming, “I don’t think…I can’t…It’s too much, Leon.”

            Leon grinned, and leaned in to kiss D’s neck.  The hand between D’s thighs remained still, but his other hand kept moving on D’s erection.  It was causing the most delicious tension in his stomach, and lower.  “D,” Leon breathed against his ear and D shivered.  “Baby, we haven’t even started.”

            D whimpered.  “I don’t think I can stand it.”

            “Open your legs for me,” Leon coaxed, and the low pitch of his voice made another rush of wet.  D found himself spreading his legs before he had even processed the words.  Then Leon’s finger slid deep inside him, and the sensation was incomparable.  Leon groaned and a second finger joined the first, stretching him.  He had never thought of these parts before, except in passing when he knew that someday he would reproduce.  He’d never known they could create these sensations that left him sweating and gasping and desperate for more.

            “I can’t fucking believe this,” Leon said, more to himself than to D, and sank down on his stomach between D’s legs.  His hand left D’s erection and smoothed over the joint of his pelvis, and D felt bereft.  Only then Leon’s mouth was on him, licking and kissing D’s shaft.  He didn’t stay long, moving lower, removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue.  D made a sound he was embarrassed by, but didn’t care, shoving his hips into Leon’s face, quivering all over and then it was too much sensation and he felt his inner muscles clenching and he screamed and couldn’t stop.

            Leon grinned; D could feel it against the skin of his thigh.  He dropped a hand into Leon’s hair, tugged his head gently to the side so he could see him, and smiled back.  His erection was still throbbing in need, but so was Leon’s.  “That was…” D said, and found he could not find the words.

            “Yeah,” Leon said in agreement.  He drew his finger up D’s length.

            “Please,” D said, suddenly hot and desperate all over again.  His inner muscles clenched in anticipation.

            Leon reached up the length of the bed and grabbed a pillow and smacked D’s hip with his other hand.  D squeaked in protest, but Leon was trying to lift his hips and D got the hint, raising himself up enough to let Leon slide the pillow beneath him.  Leon pushed D’s legs up til his feet were near his thighs, and he didn’t speak, but his eyes were requesting permission.

            How could he explain that Leon not even need to make the request?  How could he explain that this was what he’d been waiting for without even knowing it?  He put his arms around Leon’s back and pulled him forward and that was all the invitation Leon needed.  He slid forward until the tip of his erection was against D’s opening and hesitated only a second before pushing forward.

            “OH!” D’s nails dug into Leon’s back and with a little grunt, Leon pushed himself deeper, til he was all the way in.  It was a tight fit, but it was perfect.  It seemed like there were a million places inside, and each was sensitive in its own way, and Leon was touching everything and it was perfect.

            D rocked his hips, just testing, and something rubbed in just the right spot, making him sob and bit his lip, thrashing his head side to side.  Leon leaned in to kiss him and began to move, slowly, in and out.  Time seemed to slow down and speed up all at once.  Leon fit over him perfectly.  D lifted his legs around Leon’s hips and held onto his shoulders for dear life, and Leon was tender, but he was also desperate.  D’s pleasure was now a slow build, already slightly sated, but Leon had found no release.

            “Can’t hold on,” Leon groaned near his ear.  “Shit.” He moved faster, moved without finesse, grinding and thrusting and D was so full it ached and it was good.  And just when he was thinking it was not enough, Leon’s fist was around his erection and D was glad he was leaking so much, because Leon’s grip was firm and his motions quick.

            Though it had been building, his orgasm took him by surprise, and it was like a chain reaction, the most delightful, blinding, painful pleasure that he wasn’t sure he’d survive.  He couldn’t stop shaking or gasping, or swallowing compulsively.  It began low in his groin and spread down, just like before only more powerful, gripping Leon tight in his heat; then it radiated outward, upward, tightening in his balls until it was unbearable and then he was coming in Leon’s hand, too, hot sticky pulses that might have been embarrassing if Leon wasn’t coming too, moaning promises and whispering terms of endearment.

            Leon rolled off him and when he left D’s body, he felt oddly empty and bereft.  He followed Leon with a soft moan, throwing an arm and a leg over Leon’s body and holding on.  There was another flood of liquid between his legs and it was obscene, but somehow also arousing to know it was from Leon’s spent passion.  Leon brought up a hand, put it over D’s, holding it over his chest.  D could feel the rapid beat of Leon’s heart, and just closed his eyes and delighted in the aftershocks making his inside’s twitch.

            “I have never known such a thing,” D told him softly.  He knew his every word and movement were only making him more open to being hurt by Leon, but after what they’d just done, he couldn’t not close himself off again.  Leon had caught him off guard by appearing on the roof, had terrified him with the prospect of his death, and now Leon had done what he’d always meant to do and what D had sworn he never would—Leon had caught him, and quite effectively, too.

            It seemed to take a moment for Leon to process his words, but then he tilted his head to look down at D.  “Never?” he repeated, his expression dumbfounded.  D felt himself blushing and ducked his head, letting his hair cover his embarrassment.  Leon took his chin in hand and lifted his head for a light kiss.  “Never?” He repeated in wonderment.

            “Jesus, D,” Leon said after a moment.  “You’re unreal.”

            D bristled, or tried to, but was too satisfied to muster any honest indignation.  “I assure you, Detective, I am quite real.  Or…” And he smiled wickedly now, levered himself up til he was straddling Leon.  “Have you not seen enough proof of that, yet?”

 

            Suhara stepped out of the shower and was confused to hear the sound of chattering from the outer room.  It was a conversation, Carmen’s high, eager voice and another, lower voice, barely audible.  Scrambling, he pulled on his pants and shirt without bothering to dry, and burst out of the bathroom.

            At the table, Carmen sat, playing a board game with the older woman, who smiled hesitantly up at him when she saw him.

            “I thought I told you to leave us alone,” Suhara said, his tone warning.

            “Well, but I don’t think that is the best idea,” she murmured.  “Carmen and I have been talking.” Carmen nodded her head eagerly.  “And we both rather think she’s more of an Alison.”

            “What?” Suhara demanded.

            “I think you two should talk,” Carmen said, her voice sombre in that little girl honesty she had.

            “But Carmen—”

            “Alison,” she corrected.  She squinted up at the woman she could become.  “I think she’s right.”

            “Alison, then,” Suhara said impatiently.  “I thought you agreed, we don’t need anyone but the two of us.”

            “It is just the two of us,” she said.  She went to her bedroom then, leaving the Suhara alone with her.

            She smiled and gestured to the incense burning on the counter.  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said.  “I visited the shop where you met Alison, and the owner thought burning this might help us see to the heart of the matter.”

            “This is nonsense—”

            “Perhaps,” she agreed readily, “but I am not certain that any of this has made much sense.” She stood and moved closer to him.  “She is a delightful girl, Suhara.  You two are very well suited to one another.  But she is not me, and I cannot allow you to make her my replacement.”

            “Suhara-san…” She placed a hand on his arm, light enough for him to shrug off, but he did not move.  “I am sorry that I hurt you, and I did not realise the extent of the damage I inflicted.  I never knew how deeply my departure affected you.  Perhaps I should not be surprised that you hid as much of your hurt from me, as I hid of mine, from you.”

            “Your hurt?” Suhara echoed.  He had always found it strange, the way the one who did the leaving could try to turn the situation around, to somehow make themselves the victim.

            “I do not meant to diminishing your own hurt by speaking of mine,” she said gently.  “And I do not mean that you caused me any pain, Suhara-san.  Yours, in fact, have always been one of the few relationships in my life I have not come to regret.  And I am sorry that in searching for myself I have caused you such grief.  If there was one person in my life I would wish would never come to harm, it would be you.”

            She spoke so earnestly and part of him wanted to believe her, but what would believing her mean for him, and for Ca—Alison?  “Please, Suhara-san, tell me how I can make this better?”

            “Why did you leave?” So many times it had been discussed, and he’d even had his own ideas, ideas further enforced by the rules Count D had set forth in the contract.  She was too smart, not well-disciplined enough, had been neglected, and was bored.

            With a deep sigh, she seated herself on the arm of the sofa, and looked down at her hands.  “I suppose, in a way, you are correct.  I had never really sought out ACME.  The Chief adopted me, and I loved him, and you.  And the work was rewarding enough.  But Suhara, I would see all these crimes perpetrated by clumsy, cruel criminals, and I would think to myself, ‘I could do this so much better, and without hurting anyone, and without being caught.’” She shrugged.  “It is not noble, but I never pretended to be.  It is fun.  It is what I enjoy doing.  And so long as no one is hurt, I don’t see the damage.

            “But you have been hurt,” she continued.  “I need to fix this.”

            “You will never stop,” Suhara said, knowing it to be true.  The Chief held out hope that she would one day return to ACME, realising the error of her ways, but Suhara was not so naïve.

            “No,” she agreed.  “But I will always be your friend, Suhara-san.  And Alison, she can be special to you as well, without taking my place.”  She stood and went to the counter, picking up the brass container of incense.  “Now, there is something I must do, and I hope you can forgive me.”

            Then, so quickly Suhara had no time to react, she crossed the distance between them and swept the incense around him one, speaking two soft words in a foreign language…

            It was as if a cloud had been lifted, and suddenly it was daylight again.  No more with the hazy, grey vision that had kept him confused, that had allowed him only to see Car—Alison…because now Carmen stood before him, smiling hopefully, expectantly.

            “Carmen?”

            Carmen sighed in relief and crushed him to her in a hug.  Carmen’s hugs were unlike Ilsey’s or Lynn’s.  It seemed right to have her tucked in his arms, her warmth, the scent of her shampoo, the way she breathed into his chest like she was sobbing.  The Chief may have been the one to adopt her, but Suhara had been her father, too, in so many ways.

            The last few days seemed only like a dream, devoid of substance.  “What…what happened?” He asked, resting his cheek against her hair.

            “Alison?” Carmen called, and they pulled apart from one another.  Her bedroom door creaked open and instead of a little girl, an oversized kitten with long dark hair and startling blue eyes pattered out into the kitchen.  Carmen bent to pick her up and the kitten meowed as if in pleasure when Carmen scratched under her chin.

            Suhara stared at the two of them in wonder and disbelief.  “Wh—what happened to Ca—to Alison?” He demanded.

            Carmen smiled a little.  “This is Alison,” she said, holding the cat out for Suhara to take.  He took her out of reflex and she curled up in his arms.  He looked down at her, and those wide eyes seemed to recognise him with intelligence beyond that owed a kitten.  She did seem very familiar, though he’d never seen her before.

            “This is impossible,” Suhara murmured, even as he petted the kitten’s head and it felt like déja vu, like patting little Carmen’s curls.

            “Suhara, I will tell you how it is possible,” Carmen promised and gestured for him to have a seat.

 

            Leon didn’t know if he’d ever be able to move again, and he didn’t particularly care.  ACME and their Homicide department could go fuck themselves if he could just stay here, in this bed, fucking D.  Because holy shit.  There was nothing like it.

            He’d thought how it would be when he caught D, and he’d never let sex come into the equation, because that was dangerous.  But suppose he had thought about it, he never would have imagined it being so…right.  Violent, messy, more of a struggle than sex, and maybe lots of regret and recrimination and avoiding eye contact—not this…this…

            Like D curling up beside him like he fit there, belonged there.  D’s fingers tickling patterns over Leon’s chest.  D’s hair softer than silk in Leon’s hand.  And Christ, for someone who said he’d never done it before, D was a fucking animal in bed.  Leon didn’t think he’d come so many times in two hours before in his life.  Hell, he was pretty sure he’d not come that much in a day before.  And to think, if he’d been an hour later, who knew how things would have changed?

            Instinctively, Leon tightened his hold on D, who made a small sound of protest.  He pushed himself up on an elbow and looked down at Leon, his eyes sleepy, his hair a mess, his cheeks flushed.  He looked thoroughly debauched, and Leon thought it looked good on him.  “Come back,” he said sleepily.

            “I am sticky, the bed is damp,” D said, lips twisted in a moue of distaste.  His nose wrinkled.  “And we smell.”

            Leon kinda liked the smell, but he let his arm fall from around D’s waist.  “Gotta shower?”

            D gave him a strange look.  “Of course I have a shower,” he said.  He edged off the bed and swayed on his feet for a moment and Leon shot out a hand to catch his arm and support him.

            “Want some company?” He asked, nosing aside D’s hair to get to the skin just behind his ear, sucking and biting until D was whimpering and sagging back against him. 

            They made it as far as the bathroom counter before Leon was inside of him again.  D didn’t even seem to care that all his pretty bottles and towels and stuff were getting knocked to the floor.  D begged and dug fresh scratches down Leon’s back to match the ones from earlier.  Somehow they managed to make it through the shower without any further incident, but Leon figured that was probably only because if he tried to have sex again any time in the next twelve hours, his dick was going to be very sore.

            Though he’d rather have stayed in bed, where there were conversations to be had and issues to be resolved, by the time he’d got redressed, D had already moved back out into the main room of the shop, and Leon’s stomach told him he needed to eat, and then maybe sleep for a day or two.  ACME was pretty cool, but all this travelling around the world instantly was catching up with him.  He had no idea what day it was, or how long it had been since he’d slept in that tiny room ACME had provided for him at HQ.

            The way back to the receiving room was a little confusing, down a hall, up some steps, down some steps and through a door, and Leon had to remind himself that no matter where the pet shop was, it didn’t follow the rules.  He heard shouting as he neared the doors and picked up his pace to see what the commotion was about.

            “Look, Leon said something about this place being what Carmen was after,” Ivy was saying.  She had cornered D, who looked altogether unimpressed by her.  Leon was familiar with that.

            “Detective,” D said, “I can assure you that I am not privy to the whims of Carmen Sandiego.  I would not dream to suppose I understand her motivations.”

            “Lay off it, D,” Leon said amicably, stepping into the room.  D looked at him with pinched lips but said nothing further.  Ivy stared at him in disbelief, but Leon only had eyes for the tea tray D had already set out, with little sweet cakes and rice cakes and the scent of jasmine tea filling the room. 

“Sit down, Ivy,” he said, and gestured to the seat across from him.  Dumbly, Ivy did so.  D recovered from having his space invaded and looked much better at ease.  He was back in one of his fancy cheongsams, bright red with gold phoenix stitching and a high collar that covered the marks Leon had left.  He looked nothing like the man who’d been in bed with Leon not a half-hour before.  “You too, D.”  He patted the seat beside him and D gave him an exasperated look, but took it, leaning forward to pour the tea for them.

“What’s going on?” Ivy’s voice was suspicious, and Leon figured she probably already had a fair idea of what was going on.  “I thought you said—”

“You know that Suhara was here,” Leon said.  “He purchased a pet from D.”  D passed the saucers around, first to Ivy, then to Leon, then taking one for himself and sat up, his back straight and tense, like he didn’t like that Leon was saying this to a stranger.  Leon put a hand on his shoulder, and though at first there was resistance, eventually D relaxed into the touch.

“So?  Why did she steal the building?  So what if Suhara bought a pet?” Ivy persisted.

“Yes,” D said softly.  His tone was one with which Leon was very familiar.  It reminded him how dangerous D could be.  “Please, explain to your partner why Suhara’s pet his special.”

Suddenly, Leon didn’t want to.  He didn’t want anyone to know.  It was insane, because he’d always wanted to prove that D was crooked, but now that he had his chance, he didn’t want to say the words.  Maybe Ivy’d believe him, even.  She had seen plenty of strange stuff with Carmen.  But it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t just dismiss him as crazy.  He just didn’t want her to know.  He wanted this to himself.  His hand tightened on D and D shot him the closest thing to a startled look he was probably ever going to get with company present.

“Maybe you should check on your pets,” Leon suggested lightly, and met D’s eye.

D smiled just a little.  “Perhaps you are right,” he said loftily.  “No doubt Tet-chan could use some calming just about now.”  He stood and bowed slightly to Ivy, all grace and beauty.  “Detective.” He slipped through the back door, closing it behind himself.

“Ivy,” Leon said, and then didn’t know where to go from there.

“That guy,” she said, looking at the door as if she could still see him.  “Three hours ago you have him in handcuffs, and now you’re sitting down to tea with him?” She leaned back in her seat and glared at a point on Leon’s neck above his collar.  “Do you have a hickey?” She asked, squinting.  Leon blushed and smacked a hand over it.  “Oh my God.  I was right.  Oh my God.”

“Ivy,” Leon interrupted, “look.  Me and D, we have…we have a strange relationship.  And actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about…”

Ivy’s brows rose high on her forehead.  “Me?  Hey, Leon, whatever you want to do with him is fine with me.  I’m from San Francisco, you know.”

Leon scowled.  “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Well, if you’re looking for romance advice, you’d totally got the wrong Parker.  Zack’s the one in the relationship.  And even if I do live in San Francisco, I am woefully uneducated on the subject of gay sex, so you’re just SOL.” Ivy shrugged, and Leon was impressed that she didn’t seem the slightest bit embarrassed at all.

“Thanks, but I think we’ll do just fine on our own,” Leon snapped.  “That isn’t what I meant, either.  It’s just…remember when I told you about that case I’d been working on when I left the LAPD?  The one with no arrests or convictions?”

Ivy nodded hesitantly, and her gaze flicked to the door again.  Leon nodded.  “Yeah.  Him.  This place.”

“This place?”

“I know its strange, but you can’t act all that surprised, given what Carmen manages to do.  He had this place, this pet shop, back in LA,” Leon explained.

“And?  What did he do, that you were trying to arrest him?” Ivy asked

“It’s uh…it’s not important,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  “Point is, I was always after him, except somehow I ended up spending more time hanging out with him than chasing him, ya know?”

He hoped this was sounding familiar, cause he was damn awful at handing out advice, particularly when it came to romance.  Shit, he and Ivy really were two of a kind.  Too bad they both had things for supernatural criminals, or they might have really had something with one another.

“And, ya know, I spent so much time trying to prove he was doing something wrong, so much time convincing myself that I should be chasing him and putting him away, I never stopped to think that maybe there was another reason I might be chasing him.”

Ivy was giving him a look like he was a babbling idiot, which, fair enough.  “Look, Ivy, what I’m trying to say is…I tried so hard to make excuses for why I should want to be around him, why I was always after him, why I quit my fucking job and gave up my goddamned life to follow him around the fucking globe so I wouldn’t have to face the truth, which was…” He stopped, hiding his blush by ducking his head.

“Which was?” Ivy echoed.

            “Which was…because…he’s…” Leon smiled in spite of himself.  “He’s D.  I want to be around him because I…” He really hoped Ivy got it now, because there was no way in hell he was finishing that line of thought.  He looked up, and from her wide-eyed expression, he’d say it had hit home.

            “So, what you’re saying…”

            “Yep,” Leon finished, nodding.  He gave her a sympathetic grimace.  “Sorry.”

            “Oh my God.” She put a hand over her mouth.  “Oh my God.”

            “You should drink your tea.  D says its good for calming people down,” Leon said, not knowing any other way to be helpful.  Ivy finished it all in one gulp.

 

            “Is everything alright with your friend?” D asked, when Leon found him in the fish room.

            “Shit.  This place hasn’t changed at all, has it?” Leon asked, going to one of the tanks, running his fingers just lightly across the glass.

            D made a small noise of disapproval.  “Certainly your filthy language hasn’t.”  He expected Leon to react to that with violence or derision, but he smiled and put his arm around D’s waist.  D started and almost dropped the box of fish food.  “The animals,” he protested, pushing against Leon’s chest.

            “Yeah,” Leon agreed, “I guess they have.  Or at least…the way I see them?”

            D experienced the strangest sensation, like his heart dropped to his stomach.  “The way you see them?” He repeated, unable to keep the hopeful smile from his face.  “You…see them.”

            “Do you think you could get those ones to wear, like, a bikini top or something?” Leon asked, jerking his head in the direction of the tank filled where some rather well endowed triplespine fish were flicking flirting looks at Leon.

            Scandalised, D shot them a scolding expression.  He would deal with them later, though.  “How did you…?

            Leon smirked.  “Guess I’m not as thick-headed as you’d like to think.”

            D hid his pleasure with a wry expression.  “Oh, let us not go that far,” he teased.  Only a few short hours ago he had been planning his escape, and he found it amazing that he could be so comfortable standing here in Leon’s embrace for any of the pets to see.  He had to keep reminding himself not to panic.  It wasn’t so hard.  It was only habit, learned from his grandfather, that made him worry at all. 

            “D,” Leon said, suddenly serious.  “Please don’t leave again.” The desperation in his voice, perversely, aroused D.  He leaned in, forgetting the pets, letting his head rest against Leon’s forehead.  Did Leon think he could actually leave after what they’d…after what they had shared?  Perhaps he had done some damage when he had left Los Angeles.  He nodded.

            He had to step away to keep his composure, unwilling to show any more here and now.  Later, alone, maybe.  “I must tend to the other pets,” he said, and Leon dropped his arms.  “And then, if you are hungry, we might go to dinner.”

            Leon grinned.  “Sounds good to me.”

            For some reason, Leon insisted on following him around the shop as he made his rounds.  Pon-chan greeted him with delight, Tet-chan with derision and Ten-chan with a knowing smirk.  “Is Chris with you?” Pon asked.

            “Uh…” Leon seemed to be surprised to be holding a teenaged girl instead of a racoon, regardless of what he said about knowing as much.  “No.  Chris is with his parents, in New York.”  Pon-chan was visibly crest-fallen, but D could see the disappointment in Tet-chan as well.

            “Maybe now that we are all together we can visit Chris sometime,” D said gently.  “Or maybe he could visit us.” He did not hope that Chris’ parents would allow it, and indeed, he had never thought to see Chris again until just now.  But even with Leon beside him, he felt a strange emptiness without Chris.

            Leon smiled at the suggestion.  “Hey, yeah.  I bet Chris would love it.  ‘Course I’ll have to save up a little bit to get a ticket for him.  Unless…I bet I could get the Chief to let me use the C-5 for it.” He sighed.  “Though we’ll have to get permission from my aunt and uncle.  But once school’s out, I’m pretty sure they’ll be glad to get him out of their hair for a week or two.”

            D wanted to speak, but felt uncomfortable discussing their relationship where others could hear.  He finished tending to the pets and allowed Leon be distracted by the others.  Many of them remembered him and were confused and intrigued that he could now see and understand them.

            “Detective,” D began.  He had finished feeding the birds and looped his arm through Leon’s.  “You are…employed with ACME.  And sometimes the nature of my work might…conflict with your profession.”

            Leon snorted.  “What do you think I’ve been saying all these years?”

            “But…do you not see the problem?” D frowned.

            “D…” Leon stopped and took him by the shoulders.  “Have you ever killed a person?”

            “I—and if I have?” D challenged. 

            “What you do is wrong, D.”

            D had to bite back the disappointment welling up in his chest.  He fought the burning in his cheeks and eyes.  “Well, I can see—”

            “What you do is wrong, but I think you do it for the right reasons.”

            “Wh—what do you mean?” D asked suspiciously.

            “I heard you grandpa and your father, and all that shit about what made you guys what you are,” Leon said, scuffing his foot on the floor, clearly uncomfortable.  “I guess I can kinda see why you think we need taught a lesson.”

            “Indeed,” D remarked.

            “Yeah.  But the way you do it is wrong.  Whatever you did to that Suhara guy hurt a lot of people.”

            “Maybe,” D allowed.  “But the situation has been resolved now.  Not all of my pets lead their owners to ruin, Detective.”

            “That doesn’t make it okay, though, D,” Leon said, raising his voice.  “Can’t you…couldn’t you teach them a lesson without hurting them?”

            “Well.” D sniffed coolly, but inside his thoughts were a whirl.  Hadn’t he asked his grandfather that very question, so many years ago when he was being trained to take over the pet shop?  Hadn’t he wanted to try a different way?  Hadn’t he thought fixing violence with more violence could never end well?

            Leon saw it in his eyes and kissed him hard, taking his breath away.  “Leon!” He protested.  “It would never work.  Humans are too—”

            “Too stupid, too blind, too set in their ways, and yeah, D, I’ve heard it all, cause you said it all to me.  But I’m here aren’t I?  D, I am not going to give up on you, no matter what you say about us, no matter what you do to try to scare me off.  But I know you, and I know you agree, don’t you?  You’re not like your dad, or your gramps.  So just say you won’t kill anyone any more.”

            D could see his sincerity.  “Leon…” Even knowing to expect it, Leon still surprised him.

            “D!”

            Leon and D jumped apart, both turning to face the door where Taizu stood.  Leon scowled and wrapped a possessive arm around D’s waist.  “Detective,” D snapped peevishly and wrenched himself from the embrace.  “Taizu.  How may I help you?”

            “What is he doing here?” Taizu demanded, and if looks could kill, Leon would no doubt be dead.

            “The detective and I were merely discussing this latest incident with Carmen Sandiego,” D said politely.  He could see Leon bristling out of the corner of his eye, but Taizu did not deserve the truth.

            “And what the hell is it to you, anyway?” Leon asked, jerking his chin at Taizu.

            “This is my building, Detective,” Taizu said, all icy politeness.  “Certainly I am curious to discover why Carmen Sandiego took this building, and what she had to say to Count D on the roof.  And who, precisely, you are.”

            Leon was stewing, readying himself for a big fight, and D did not feel like dealing with that particular mess.  “Please, Taizu,” D said delicately.  “I do not know how many times or ways I can say it.  I have no idea what interested Carmen Sandiego in Neo-Chinatown.” At least Leon didn’t call him on that lie.  “And as for Detective Orcot, he is a…very good friend of mine.”

            “Very good friend?” Taizu snorted.  “And dragging you off in handcuffs?”

            “Something of a tradition,” D said, tossing Leon a private smirk.  Well, it was only a little lie.  How often had Leon attempted to get him in handcuffs—and succeeded a few times, too.

            “Don’t think you’re fooling me,” Taizu said, advancing in that way he had, like all the world belonged to him, and all the space in it was his.  He had the most commanding presence.  “So, maybe it isn’t just prostitution?  Maybe you’ve got some sort of underground trade going on…stolen goods?  Or maybe you really do buy and sell people?”

            Leon stirred and took a step forward.  D found it perversely amusing that it was Leon attempting to defend him from accusations he himself had made before.  D stepped between them and moved to place a hand on Taizu’s forearm.  “Please, Taizu.  Remember that I was the one who convinced Ms. Sandiego to return the building.”

            Taizu fumed at this apparently incapable of formulating a response to reason.  Leon, however, glared at the two of them, particularly the point where D touched Taizu’s arm.  D sighed and dropped his hand after another gentle pat.  “Now, please, Taizu, Leon and I were just heading out to dinner.”

            “Leon?” Taizu spat.

            “Yes,” D said, and steeled himself for whatever might come next.  “In fact, I suppose you should get used to seeing Leon around quite often.”

            Taizu’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  Leon put his hand lightly on D’s hip, and though D was not one for these public displays, he allowed it remain to make a point.  Taizu glared a lot at them both, but couldn’t seem to formulate a response, and as soon as the door was shut on Taizu’s exit, Leon had D up against it, kissing him.

            “I really don’t like that guy,” Leon growled in his ear, before placing a sharp bite just below it.  D shook violently and ducked his head to block his neck.  Leon just kissed his mouth instead.

            “Taizu, rather like someone else I know, has a far more dangerous bark than his bite,” D said between panting breaths.  Leon’s hands tightened on his waist, tugging, grinding their hips together.  “However,” he went on, trying not to sound affected, “I suppose if you are concerned…”

            Leon’s kisses were making it increasingly difficult to think, let alone speak.  “A…ACME has an office here in Tokyo, no doubt?  And that…intriguing corridor allows you to travel quite quickly and efficiently,” D said, voice shaking.  And maybe this is why grandfather was so afraid of humans, this overwhelming need he now felt to have Leon near to him.  Maybe it would have been better if he’d never let Leon touch him, but now he would not go without.

            Leon grinned.  “So you aren’t going to kill anyone any more?”

            “The pets are not mine to control,” D said.  “However…as their friend and protector, I could possibly alter the conditions of the contracts…”

            Leon made a little sound of triumph and kissed D again.  D melted into the touch, glad he had the door behind him to hold him up.  Would he ever become immune to this weakness caused by Leon’s lips?  Leon’s fingers began to fumble with the zipper up the side of the cheongsam and D parted from him, panting.

            “What about dinner?” D protested.  He was already growing hot from Leon’s kisses.  Much longer and he’d be useless for going out.  And Leon’s stomach had been making all those rude sounds that indicated he was hungry.

            “Later,” Leon promised, and that was just fine with D.

 

            “I tried calling you the other day.”

            Isabel looked up in surprise.  She had not expected Ivy, and though she did not mind, she was confused as to how the girl had got past Lillian.  “Ivy.  I am sorry about that.  I was wrapped up in a rather unfortunate mess with a client.  I received your messages this morning.”

            “Oh,” Ivy said, nodding.  She invited herself in more fully, taking one of the seats in front of Isabel’s desk.  “See, I thought it was because you had been detained.” Her tone of voice in the sparkle in her eyes made Isabel do a double take.

            “Well,” Isabel said delicately, “you have always been a very clever woman.”  She sat back in her seat, crossing her hands on the desktop.  “What do you propose we do about this?”  Isabel’s mind raced for something to say, something that would make sense of this situation, but all she could think of was how quickly she could make it to the wardrobe and how long she should lay low before getting a new identity.

            “I guess,” Ivy said thoughtfully, as if she was trying to work things out even as she spoke, “you’ll just have to be more careful in the future.  You know—avoid unpleasant entanglements…”

            “Indeed?” Isabel felt her stomach give a little lurch, and was quite sure they were on the same page, now.  “And if it is simply an unavoidable eventuality of my work?”

            Ivy shrugged.  “You’re pretty good at what you do.”

            Isabel couldn’t stop the smile of wonderment at her words.  How delightfully unexpected this all was.  She hadn’t known how Zack and Ivy would react to her being apprehended by someone other than themselves, and certainly hadn’t expected Ivy to put the pieces together.  It would be the last time she underestimated her.

            “And so are you, Detective,” Isabel said, with a nod of approval.

            “Maybe.” Ivy heaved a false sigh.  “But I’m beginning to think I’ve grown out of the Carmen case.”

It was as if the ground had gone out from beneath her.  “Oh?” She said, because it was all she could manage.

“Yeah.  I just guess I really don’t see the merit of it.  I think it was meeting you and Leon.  You two have made me reconsider my priorities,” Ivy explained.  “Leon’s putting in a transfer to Homicide, and I’m not sure that’s my scene, but Narc is pretty interesting…”

Isabel shook her head in disbelief.  “Oh,” Ivy went on, “I’m certain Zack will still be on Carmen’s tail.  And there are a few new applicants to ACME who I’m certain would do splendidly on the Carmen case if chosen.  But the way I see it, chasing Carmen is the job of an idealist.  And I don’t think I’m one of those.  And besides…” She tipped her head to the side and gave Isabel a shy smile.  “This way, you and I don’t have a professional relationship.”

“I see…” Isabel said slowly.  And she was finally beginning to see.  Just after she’d sworn Ivy wouldn’t surprise her, she did again.  It was quite enjoyable.  This could be a lot of fun...

 

Epilogue

One Year Later

 

            “Leon, would you please get out of those revolting clothes,” D chastised, smacking his feet with Leon’s rolled up newspaper.  Leon obediently dropped his feet from the coffee table, only to put them back up after D’s back was turned.

            “Five more minutes, D.” He sighed and threw an arm over his eyes.  “I’m beat.”

            “But Christopher will be here in twenty minutes, and if you think I will allow you at my dining table smelling like you do, I am sorry to tell you that you are mistaken,” D called from the kitchen.  “So get your feet off my table and go take a shower, please.  And try to wear something that isn’t stained or torn.”  Leon smiled even at D’s nagging and didn’t bother pointing out that Chris didn’t give a flying rat’s ass what Leon looked like.  It was home.  

            The shop was abuzz.  At just after seven in the evening, most species whether nocturnal or diurnal were awake, and many of them were excited about Chris’ visit.  Leon passed several happy faces on his way to his and D’s shared bedroom, and realised he was pretty excited too.  Even though with the C-5 corridor he could travel pretty much anywhere instantly, it had been over a month since he’d seen Chris.  Depressingly enough, it was always a busy time for homicide.

            He caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, and he didn’t look very dirty,

just a little tired.  He knew D got on his case because he was worried, but Aunt Patricia knew was she was talking about.  Being an ACME detective was a hell of a lot safer than being a cop, no matter what country.

            The shower was refreshing, and by the time Leon had dressed (in a nice pair of trousers and button down, to keep D off his case), Chris had already arrived.  Leon could hear him babbling happily with Tet-chan and Pon-chan in the receiving room, but Leon heard another voice join in as he approached.

            “Hey, what’s up?” He asked, poking his head in.

            Chris and Zack looked up and Zack nodded amicably.  “I hope you don’t mind I brought Zack along.  We were working late on a case, and it was my fault.  I thought the least I could do was treat him to dinner.”

            “Hell, I don’t give a shit,” Leon told him.  “D alright with it?”

            “I am fine with it, Detective,” D called from the dining room, “though I would prefer to hear fewer expletives from that room.”

            “So, what case?” Leon asked.  He preferred to stay out of the Carmen business altogether at the office.

            Zack rolled his eyes and Chris laughed.  “She’s not stealing anything at the moment,” he explained.  “She just keeps causing these big uproars by walking into stores and making purchases.”

            “Ivy says maybe she’s turning over a new leaf,” Zack said, and his tone told Leon how much he doubted it.

            “Its weird, though,” Chris went on eagerly, like Zack hadn’t interrupted him.  “She’s been buying, like jewellery and flowers and chocolates and stuff.” He shook his head, an amused smile on his lips.

            Leon decided not to mention that Ivy would probably know far better than any of them what Carmen was up to.  She’d tell Zack eventually, he was sure, but Leon would leave it up to her to decide the right time. 

            “Yeah, well,” Zack muttered, “I’m pretty sure its all some kinda distraction.  Try to lull us into a false sense of security, and then BAM!”

            Chris shook his head again, this time at his partner.  Leon thought they made a pretty good pair.  Zack wasn’t by any means a cynic, but he’d been on the Carmen case a long time, and he was really smart with languages and facts and shit…but Chris was optimistic and eager, and he was better with people than Zack.  They balanced each other out pretty well, and Leon trusted Zack to take good care of Chris.  He never would have stopped Chris from being a cop, but he was glad he’d gone for ACME instead.

            D called them all to dinner shortly, and it was a pleasant affair.  Leon caught Tet-chan shooting Zack several glares.  He didn’t know whether to be disturbed by Tet-chan’s interest in Chris, or amused that Tet-chan saw Zack as competition.  He wondered if he should let Tet-chan know about Zack’s fiancée, but figured he didn’t want to give the goat the wrong idea, like he approved, or something.

            After dinner D brought out the cake and Chris blew out all sixteen candles in one go, and Leon had to not think about how old that made him feel.  But later, when Chris and Zack were gone and D curled up in his lap and asked him if he was too tired, Leon decided he had a long way to go before he was over the hill.  And later still when sore and tired and sated, with D snuggling into his arms and murmuring a promise of love, Leon had to smile and think about where he’d been a year ago, and how things had changed.  He had his job, his family, and he had D, and never could he have imagined he would owe it all to Carmen Sandiego…