To thine own self
by Ainzfern
7
"So... do you trust him?" Seated on the penthouse's balcony wall, looking at Katze with transparent empathy in his dark eyes, Riki blew a thin stream of smoke into the cool mid-morning air. "I mean, tonight, you hit the town as his companion for the evening but... do you trust him?"
Standing just a few feet away, with his elbows propped on the wall and an ever-present cigarette of his own dangling from his lips, Katze gazed out across the city. "To do what, exactly?" he squinted up at the morning sun for a moment.
"Keep his word?" Riki shrugged.
Katze huffed a mirthless little chuckle. "Do I have a choice?"
Riki nodded seriously. "Yeah," he answered softly, his tone definite. "These days? Yeah, Katze... you have a choice."
Katze continued to stare out at Midas for a moment before sighing, almost grimly. "It's not that simple."
"No?"
"No." Katze's eyes flicked towards Riki briefly. "The thing is, logically, I know that I shouldn't trust him; that I can't rely on him to do anything other than kick me in the fuckin' teeth again."
Riki almost winced at the profound note of defeat in Katze's voice.
Oh yeah... Riki had been there before, all right. "But you want to, right?" he asked softly.
Peripherally, he saw Katze's shoulders droop, his head falling forward slightly. "Yeah," the ex-Furniture's voice was low and flat. "Yeah, I do."
"Listen," Riki shifted on his perch to face the red-head, his dark eyes somber, "There's no rule-book on this shit, Katze. There's no standard guide on how it's all supposed to go, y'know?"
"There's a precedent, though," Katze flashed a tight little smile in Riki's direction.
Riki blinked. "You mean me and Iason?" He shook his head. "I wouldn't recommend trying to copy too much of our history, man."
"You made it in the end."
"Yeah, but look how many times we royally fucked it up before we got it right." Riki slipped off the wall, moving to stand next to Katze and resting one hand on the man's tense shoulder. "Besides, the circumstances that he and I struggled against, the whole taboo thing; it's fading away more every day."
"So you're saying it'll be easier for those who follow you?"
Riki snorted softly as he squeezed Katze's shoulder once, gently, before dropping his hand. "Oh hell, no... God, this kind of shit is never easy. But I can't really give you any better advice than to go with it. Take each moment as it comes and deal with it the best that you can." He shrugged, almost helplessly. "That's it."
Katze grew very still as he considered Riki's words, occasional wisps of smoke wreathing up around him. At length, he sighed again, a deeply weary sound that seemed to rise up from his soul. "I can't be a lover to him, Riki," he murmured, closing his eyes, clear regret in his voice. "Not really. Not in the way that you are to Iason."
Riki looked sadly at him, feeling a genuinely melancholy pain for the man whisper through his chest. "Do you really think that Raoul only wants that from you?"
Katze shook his head and shrugged weakly. "No, I... I don't think so." He huffed a mirthless chuckle. "But then, I don't really know what he wants from me."
"Maybe just your company?" Riki rested one lean hip against the balcony wall. "Maybe just some of your time? Maybe it's that simple."
"Maybe."
"I mean, seriously, man" Riki reached out and nudged Katze's shoulder. "There's more to being a lover than just fucking, you know."
Katze's look was suddenly cold. "That's not exactly how I remember it, Riki," he replied sharply. "I was old enough to have hooked up with a couple of 'partners'..." he practically spat the word, "...before I was conscripted as a Furniture. In my experience, fucking was all they really gave a shit about."
His words hung there in the soft morning air for a long moment.
"Okay," Riki nodded unhappily, his dark eyes sad. "Okay... I think I know this story. It happened where I grew up, too." Riki lowered his voice. "You were pretty when you were young, right?"
Katze snorted. "Pretty enough."
Riki sighed. "So you got royally fucked over by a series of guys who called themselves your 'partners' and treated you like shit, right?"
With his eyes narrowing, Katze scowled, a look of deep disgust briefly flashing across his pale face. "I was young and stupid enough to fall for it more than once." He turned his gaze out over the city once more, visibly composing himself. "It was just one of the reasons I made up my mind to get the hell out of the slums."
"Katze..." Riki moved a little closer to his friend, his eyes serious and direct. "It's a whole different playing field that you're in now." He followed Katze's gaze, looking out across the sunlit city with him. "I mean, there's so much more that Iason and I share besides just the physical shit." He bit his full lower lip for a second, wondering how to phrase his next thought, wondering if he even should. Deciding to continue, he nodded to himself and drew in a deep breath. "Do you remember that day in Dana Bahn...? When you came and found me after I'd called you?"
Katze nodded slowly, his expression growing even bleaker. "Not something that I would ever forget, Riki," he answered tightly.
"Well," Riki swallowed hard, the cold and uncomfortable knot of residual fear and pain that always filled his gut when he thought of that time, rising in him once more. "When I went into the building and found Iason the first time... he was just so fuckin' relieved to see me, y'know?" Riki shook his head, "I realized, then, that he knew what Guy had done to me and it didn't matter to him. He wanted me back. He wanted me. Whether I was whole or not... he wanted me."
Katze turned toward him, his eyes appearing golden in the pale morning sun. "He always did, you know?"
"I know." Riki smiled ruefully. "At least... I know now."
"What is it like, Riki?" Katze asked him then, looking directly at him; a strained and almost hungry look on his scarred face. "To really know that someone loves you that much?"
Riki's expression was deeply sorrowful as he returned Katze's gaze with compassionate eyes. "It's wonderful," he replied softly, absolute sincerity in his tone. "It's just... wonderful."
"Yeah," Katze's eyes closed painfully for a moment before he opened them and turned to gaze one more time across the beautiful sunlit cityscape. "Yeah... I always thought it would be."
"...So then Master Laron completely lost his composure at that point, picked up the salad bowel from the middle of the table and dumped the entire thing over Master Tahna's head!"
Slouching in the arm-chair next to Dane's window, Riki laughed aloud for the umpteenth time this evening as Dane, comfortably cross-legged on the foot of his bed, regaled him with stories from his previous employment history with various Elite masters. Still snorting softly in amusement, Riki leaned across and snagged another sweet from the little bag at Dane's feet. "Man, I would have paid real money to be there, Dane." He popped the sweet into his mouth. "Just to see that stuck up Lam sittin' there covered in salad dressing."
Dane grinned, vastly amused in his own quiet way. "It was a memorable moment."
"You must have hundreds of stories like that," Riki remarked, his eyes lighting with interest.
Dane shrugged, still smiling. "Very nearly."
"Y'know, they're really just a bunch of frauds, aren't they?" Riki said shrewdly, one dark brow arching. "Elites, I mean. They go to all these great pains to project all this cool calm decorum, yet they can act worse than a clutch of spoilt Pets."
Dane huffed a slightly scandalized little chuckle. "Don't let Master Iason hear you say that."
Riki smirked at him. "Dane... he agrees with me."
Leaning back on his hands, Dane shook his head. "Well, Master Iason is a little unique," he said, a touch of pride in his voice.
Sighing softly, Riki glanced at the window at the night beyond the glass, his full mouth curving as he thought of Iason, no doubt making his way home from another long day at Jupiter Tower. As much as he was enjoying himself, just killing time with Dane, he couldn't deny he was really looking forward to getting an early night with his Blondie. Iason's schedule over the last few weeks had been extremely full and had limited the amount of what Riki liked to think of as 'quality time' that they were able to spend together.
Quite frankly, Riki was getting a little restless these days; physically, sexually. Of course, he kept himself busy as well, doing the odd job for Katze and continuing to coordinate with Enif to keep the required number of new colonists heading to Hepstra, but what he needed, quite separately from any intellectual activity, was to spend a few hours naked and sweaty with Iason Mink. And if he was missing it, he reasoned – probably quite accurately – then he knew that Iason would be really feeling it... which would also, apparently, account for his Blondie's shortness of temper these days.
"Riki?" Dane was asking quietly. "You okay?"
Jolting back to the present, Riki grinned at him. 'Yeah, sure. Just woolgathering." He tilted his head slightly, a question suddenly occurring to him as he looked at Dane's open and attractive face. "So, how long have you been Furniture, anyway?"
"Just over seven years," Dane replied.
"You've been through a few masters in that time, haven't you," Riki noted. "That's a little unusual, isn't it?"
"It is, actually," Dane fished in his bag for another sweet. "But I built a reputation for myself just by being quiet and efficient." His soft brown eyes twinkled, "and discreet," he added. "Some quite senior Elites were willing to pay very handsomely to purchase me for their households."
"Iason certainly was."
"For which I am most grateful." Dane winked at him. "I think, of all the places I have been, this one I like the best."
Riki grinned, genuine fondness in his chest. "Cool. So how old are you now?"
"I'm just past twenty."
"Whoa." Riki blinked, sitting forward slightly. "So you were, what, thirteen when you became a Furniture?"
"I was." Dane nodded calmly.
"Fuck, that's young," Riki breathed.
"Well, I had already physically matured," Dane shrugged lightly. "And I showed good potential."
Looking at him interestedly, Riki pursed his lips thoughtfully. "So... who picked you for the role at that age?"
Dane smiled, a wicked sparkle in his eyes. "Katze did."
Honestly startled, Riki stared at him. "No shit."
"Honestly," Dane assured him, amusement written large on his face. "He was Iason's Furniture then, although I think he might have already started working his way into the black market."
"Did he have the scar?"
"Yes, he did."
Riki nodded. "He would've been well into the market, then."
"Anyway," Dane continued, "he came to Guardian, right into the dormitory that I was in... and he seemed like someone so important. I was so flattered that he wanted to talk to me, that he thought I was good enough to be a Furniture."
Riki stared pensively down at his hands for a moment, another question rising in his mind. "Dane?" he asked almost hesitantly. "Don't you ever miss... well, y'know..." he made a vague gesture towards his lap.
Dane smiled tolerantly at him. "Having genitals that work like yours? Being able to have sex?"
Riki winced slightly.
"Riki, you have to remember... I have no basis of comparison," Dane sat forward slightly, his gaze steady and calm. "I never actually had sex before I was modified. I can't really miss something that I never had, can I?"
"I guess," Riki conceded slowly. "But, even so..."
"I cared for Pets in most of my postings, so intellectually I can understand that the process of physical intimacy must be very pleasant." He snorted softly. "And... I certainly can in this penthouse."
Riki stared at him.
Seeing the look, Dane grinned. "The main bedroom of this apartment isn't exactly soundproofed, you know."
"Okay," Riki winced again. "Now I have a huge amount of humiliation."
"Don't. Please." Dane waved a hand at him. "I'm not embarrassed to hear it. In fact, I like to hear it. It means that things are going well between you two, and that pleases me."
"You're not helping."
"Of course," Dane's expression was almost analytical, "it's been a bit of a dry spell for you lately. I'll probably have to dig out my ear plugs if I'm to get any sleep tonight."
"Getting close to a kick in the ass, Dane," Riki muttered dryly.
Dane laughed delightedly, a free and unfettered sound that Riki couldn't help grinning at, as all pretenses of anger faded from him.
"All right," Dane held up one hand, his shoulders still twitching slightly. "Truce. Let me tell you about the time Master Blaine set fire to his own hair by mistake."
Venting a huge guffaw at the very thought, Riki eagerly sat forward once more. "Oh, this I have to hear... go ahead."
At that very moment, the lights went out.
Dane gasped softly in the sudden inky darkness, "Wha..? A blackout, maybe?"
"Not sure," Riki looked over his shoulder out the window. "Nope," he replied softly. "No other grids in the city seem to be out. Maybe it's just this building. Buzz down to building management," he told Dane then. "See what's up."
He heard Dane fumbling across his bedside table searching for his phone extension. A few moments passed while Dane lifted the headpiece and waited. "Hmm, that's odd," he said after a second.
"What is?"
"The phone's dead."
And then they both heard the noise, soft and sinister, very clearly audible through the sudden dark silence in the apartment, coming from the main room. A sound very much like someone was working at the front door.
Trying to get in.
Riki's instincts began to yammer at him. "Okay," he hissed at Dane, softly, "you need to hide."
"What?"
Now that his eyes had marginally adjusted to the darkness, Riki moved quickly, grabbing Dane's arm and hauling him off the bed, literally shoving him down to the floor. "Get under the bed, Dane. Now."
"Are you serious?" Dane's voice had grown very frightened.
"Just stay there," Riki crouched low, whispering directly to him. "Do not come out until you hear me or Iason calling for you, okay?"
"Riki..."
"Shhh," Riki stood up again, padding on silent feet towards the main room, "I'll deal with this."
Just outside the doorway to the main penthouse area, there was a small alcove where one of Iason's prized exotic plants was standing, a living feature for the wall. Moving quietly, even deepening and lowering his breathing to make it more silent, Riki eased himself carefully into the shadows of the alcove, his heart pounding and adrenaline beginning to surge through his blood.
He waited.
Very slowly, very carefully, the front door of the penthouse opened. Pressing himself flat to the wall, Riki counted three shadowed figures as the men stepped in and immediately spread out around the entrance, scanning the moonlit room for movement.
"The Blondie's not here, then," he heard one of them mutter softly.
"Would we even be here if he was, Karl?" one of his companions replied.
Even in his heightened anxiety, Riki grew disgusted. These men were obviously not expecting any kind of threat from him at all, even being so confident in that belief that they were speaking aloud to each other as they went about their business.
Well, Riki gritted his teeth, they were in for a hell of a surprise, weren't they?
"So," the first man said softly, moving towards the balcony window and peering outside. "It's a fuckin' Pet or one of these dickless servants who's our little hacker, huh? Never would've figured that."
"Who gives a shit what you figure?" his teammate muttered. "We've got less than five minutes before back-up security systems break though our override and we have guards all over us. So we find him, slit his throat, and get our assess back up to the roof for our pick-up. Jake is dealing with the other one, so a quick job here and we can all get paid, right?"
"Damn right."
The third man, the silent one, was slowly moving around the perimeter of the room heading, to Riki's dismay, toward the short corridor that would lead to Dane's room and his own office space. As he closed in on Riki's alcove, he muttered softly, almost to himself.
"Where are you, little boy? Huh?"
Riki made his move. Smoothly stepping from the alcove he drew his arm back and delivered a solid blow full into the black-clad man's face. "I'm right here, you fucker," he hissed as the man stumbled back, clutching at his mouth and cursing.
Rather than trying to evade or retreat, Riki leapt towards the closer of the two remaining men, raising his fists and bracing himself to fight. He dodged the man's blow, ducking under a powerful arm and rising up, launching forward, his forehead connecting with the man's face with a satisfying crunching sound. Almost immediately, he spun to confront the threat of the last assailant, the instinctive reactions of a hundred vicious street fights in the slums coming back to him.
It was the dim light in the room that betrayed him. Glaring at the third attacker as he squared up to meet him, Riki noted his lips had pulled back into a bare-teethed snarl. Only he was mistaken. Grunting with both pain and rage as burly arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, squeezing the breath from his chest, Riki cursed his own inattention.
It hadn't been a snarl he saw. It had been a grin.
The first man he had hit, the silent one of the trio, had gotten back to his feet and was now holding him tightly, his arms effectively pinned down to his sides, while his teammate stepped in close to Riki and unfolded an evil looking blade an inch or so away from Riki's furious and frustrated face.
"It was a nice try, kid," the solidly built man in front of him said, something like actual respect in his tone, "but it wasn't quite enough." He gripped Riki's hair, forcing his head back and pressing the edge of the blade to the side of his neck.
"You hurt me," Riki spat the words at him, his dark eyes blazing, "and there will be no place in this universe where you'll be safe."
The assailant behind him chuckled grossly, his voice sounding slightly muffled, as if he was speaking through swollen flesh. "Y'know... that almost sounded convincing."
"Just hold him still," the man in front of Riki barked irritably. He met Riki's eyes and shrugged. "Hey. It's just business...y'know? But I'll make it quick for you; I can do that, at least." He smiled coldly, breathing in deeply as he pressed the blade firmly to the side of Riki's throat, preparing to slice.
At that moment, the world exploded. Accompanied by a glinting sweep of moonlit gold and a harsh roar of pure wrath, the man with the blade at Riki's neck suddenly flew backwards, colliding with the far wall of the main room with horrific force before sliding bonelessly down on to the floor. Gasping with shock and relief, Riki momentarily met a pair of blazing blue eyes, before the grip on his arms was abruptly gone, the attacker who had been holding him wrenched bodily away and flung, as if he were weightless, through the glass windows that graced the side of the penthouse to tumble helplessly across the balcony.
"Iason!" Riki panted harshly as the enraged Blondie turned with lethal speed on the last man, who had unholstered his weapon. With his face twisting into a sneer, Iason merely struck the gun from the man's grip with a contemptuous slap from his hand, sending it spinning across the room. Ignoring the would-be killer's raw cry of pain as his wrist cleanly snapped from the force of Iason's blow, the Elite grabbed the hapless man by the throat, lifting him easily, his pale eyes filled with murder.
"Iason!" Riki gripped the Blondie's rock hard upper arm urgently, "No!"
Iason's face snapped towards him, a silent demand in his eyes.
"We need at least one who's able to speak," Riki clarified, watching Iason carefully as the momentary madness that had gripped him faded from his face. "We need to know who sent them... and why."
Nodding shortly, Iason turned back to the weakly struggling man in his grip, pulling him directly up to his face. "You will talk," he commanded in a voice like the crack of doom.
And, hearing that tone, Riki had absolutely no doubt about that.
Wheezing painfully through the grip around his neck, the man helplessly grasped at Iason's wrist with both hands. "...Hacker..." he forced out through swollen lips, "...Katze..."
"Oh, God." Riki's eyes widened in alarm.
Iason dropped the man at his feet, leaving him writhing there trying to regain his breath. Turning to Riki, he gripped the younger man's shoulders firmly. "He and Raoul would already be at Partia by now," he said, his face showing the depth of his worry. "I'll call through to security there—"
"No good," Riki shook his head. "These bastards cut the communication lines in the building. But I can be there in less than five minutes on my hover-bike."
Tilting his head slightly, Iason nodded as the faint sounds of building security began to draw nearer. "Then go." He squeezed Riki's shoulders briefly. "Be careful. I will send a security squad after you as soon as I can."
With one last nod, Riki turned and sprinted from the apartment, heading to the service lifts that, to his utter relief, were still continuing to work despite the power outage. In less than a minute, he was in the basement car lot, gunning the engine of his sleek and powerful bike and screaming, at break-neck speed, out into the night.
To thine own self – chapter 6 << >> To thine own self – chapter 8